Rhymes and Reasons

"Remind me again why I'm doing this?" Miranda asked, even as she slipped her pale fingers into Pari's warm, soft grip and allowed herself to be led out of the bar and down the sidewalk. She knew she was breaking a number of her own rules--club nights weren't for hookups, they were for meeting women the blonde college student thought she might want to date later, and going back to someone else's place wasn't something she did until at least the third date. (Okay, second if they had adorable deep brown eyes like Pari did. God, she was so fucking gorgeous. Miranda couldn't stop thinking about the way their hands were touching right now.)

The young Iranian woman gave her a sly smile and said, in a lilting accent that suggested a British education, "The night is young, the bar is loud, so why spend time among the crowd?" Miranda giggled--she'd been trying to catch Pari out for most of the night, but she'd been unable to stump her new crush when it came to couplets. She seemed to have an intuitive gift for rhyming, and although it was exactly the kind of deliberate eccentricity that usually got on her nerves, Miranda found it utterly charming coming from those cherry red lips.

Of course, looking the way Pari did made just about any habit a little bit easier to take. Miranda couldn't stop sneaking glances at the other woman's wide smile, her gorgeous light brown skin that caught the moonlight so beautifully, the sway of her heavy breasts as they walked along the busy downtown streets... Pari looked so vivacious and full of sexy punk energy with her spiked purple hair and ripped denim jacket that Miranda was honestly surprised that she didn't have to elbow her way through a crowd of admirers to start up a conversation.

But it seemed almost like she was sitting near the back of the bar just waiting for Miranda to notice her. "There's no one that you have to meet," she'd said, her voice carrying clearly over the early evening crowd, "so why not come and have a seat?" All thoughts of Carrie and Leah and Edwina fled Miranda's mind in a heartbeat, and she quickly and gratefully sat across from Pari. Her friends would undoubtedly find their own entertainment. Miranda would just let them know in the morning that she bumped into someone unexpectedly.

And spent the night... spent the night? "Um, yeah, sure," Miranda mumbled, unsure why she felt the need to deflect the other woman's attentions. God, her body was so fucking beautiful--just thinking about embracing Pari and caressing the smooth swell of her hips where they broadened out into that plump, sexy ass made Miranda's eyes glaze over with arousal. But--but she had rules, didn't she? Some kind of rules that she'd made for some reason or another, probably a stupid reason that didn't make any sense. But she should still at least try to follow them. "We, um, we can just go for a nice quiet walk together."

Pari chuckled. "But I have coffee, strong and hot," she purred enticingly, her silvered tones coaxing Miranda with the promise of more than just a warm drink on a cool October evening. "It's just the thing that hits the spot." Miranda's head practically swam with arousal--she knew full well that the young woman wanted to have sex with her, their conversation back at the bar had been laced with flirtatious rhymes until Miranda's panties were almost soaked clean through. But she... she should, um, she had the rules, and she didn't want to break them because--because--well, this was why she made them when she wasn't horny and tipsy and distracted, right? Because sometimes when you were like that it was hard to remember the perfectly good reasons not to wander off and tumble into bed with a total stranger.

Miranda didn't want to break her own rules. But maybe she could just bend them a little. Just go up to Pari's apartment, have a little coffee and conversation, and leave before she did anything too... too.... Miranda's mind momentarily sank into distraction, feeling the other woman's soft, delicate fingers against her skin and wondering what it might be like to have them touch somewhere a little more intimate. She'd never been with another woman before, and the thought of being caressed by someone who knew just how she liked to be touched made Miranda's pulse quicken and her breath hitch.

Miranda frowned suddenly, her legs carrying her automatically down the street as she tried to concentrate on the strange, incongruous note that her recent thoughts struck during their wanderings. It was something, something that seemed simultaneously comfortingly familiar and yet thrillingly new, something that reminded her of Pari's soft, cooing words back at the bar. Miranda's eyes went glassy and unfocused, trying to hold the two contradictory frames of identity in her mind at the same time. She, she'd never been with a woman in her life before tonight, never even thought about it despite so many men's drunken dares on her nights out with her friends, and yet....

"A woman's touch is soft and warm, so why not love a female form?"

That was it! Miranda smiled, chuckling at her own foolishness. She remembered now. The 'no hookups' rule was there to protect her from predatory men who showed one face in public and a very different, very dangerous one when they were alone with a woman. Miranda didn't need to worry about that, not with Pari. The gorgeous, sensual beauty holding Miranda's hand was so soft, so lovely... so sexy, so hot, so filled with unabashed sensual power that Miranda's cunt simply couldn't stop drooling into her panties with anticipation of the pleasures to come... that she wouldn't think about making Miranda do anything she didn't want to. She was perfectly safe.

Her fears resolved, Miranda's feet almost seemed to float along the pavement as they continued the short journey to Pari's small apartment. "It's small and cozy, I confess, but have a seat and mind the mess!" With that, the Iranian woman hung up her jacket on a small hook by the door (revealing, in the process, a ripped Green Day t-shirt that exposed a mouth-watering amount of skin) and went over to the tiny kitchenette to start preparing coffee. Miranda hung up her own coat next to Pari's, and glanced around for somewhere to sit.

With a rueful smile, Miranda realized that the only free space in the small efficiency apartment was the double bed that took up nearly half the living area. "I, um, I can't help noticing that you don't have any chairs," she grumbled playfully, settling herself onto the edge of the mattress and trying hard not to succumb to the urge to flop backwards. She had promised herself that she was going to save any hooking up for the second date... or maybe the first date, fuck it, she had needs and god Pari's tits made her clit throb like a backbeat to every slick and sinful thought... and if Miranda lay back and let her skirt ride up her smooth, pale thighs the other woman might get the wrong idea. She might think that Miranda was, was... what was it she said back at the club?

"A secret slut between your thighs, a hidden truth behind your lies. Arousal building by the hour, until you slip into its power. My words will tell you who you are, once we depart this boring bar." Right. That. Pari always seemed to be... to be right about everything. It was a little bit disconcerting.

Even now, her eyes on her task and her hands busy with cups and saucers, the voluptuous woman knew just what to tell Miranda. "Why clear a chair when no one stays? They wind up bedded anyway!" She chuckled, and the young blonde couldn't help giggling along. Miranda had to admit that it made sense--in a small apartment like this, floor space was definitely at a premium, and using the bed as a makeshift sofa maximized the available room. Plus, yes, anyone who wound up coming up to visit, well, they... they had to wind up in bed with Pari, didn't they? H-how could they not?

It wasn't a rhetorical question, Miranda realized suddenly. And she didn't know the answer.

"I, um... is, is it hot in here?" she mumbled, pressing her hand to one flushed cheek and feeling the prickly warmth of her own feverish skin. "I, um, it's just, I think it might be a little, um, a little... warm." Miranda's voice dried up in her throat as Pari favored her with a glance, those deep brown eyes seeming almost to swallow up her helpless stare. Miranda felt seen in a way that would almost be humiliating if not for the encouraging warmth in the other woman's smile. Even if there was no way of completely hiding the slick, squirming arousal that promised to overwhelm all of Miranda's resolve, it wasn't as if Pari found the attentions unwelcome. Quite the opposite--Miranda could see the hunger behind the curving smile of those soft, sensual lips.

"Old buildings heat with cruel duress," Pari said apologetically, approaching the bed with two cups of coffee that she set with an almost casual indifference on the small table near the bed. "It's easier to just undress." With that, she shucked her jeans over her broad, curving hips and kicked them almost halfway across the room, leaving her naked from the waist down. She sat down on the mattress next to Miranda, apparently oblivious to the Caucasian woman's wide-eyed stare.

"I, um, I um um, I... I...." Miranda's brain practically blue-screened, sputtering to a halt at the sight of the dark thatch of pubic hair that tantalized the young blonde before disappearing into the cleft between Pari's broad brown thighs. She'd known this moment was coming from the moment they left the bar, perhaps even from the moment Pari first spoke to her in that lilting, sensual voice that always seemed to make so much sense even when declaring the most absurd doggerel. That moment of decision where Miranda would have to summon up the willpower to resist her own arousal. But now that it was here, she couldn't muster up any kind of resistance at all.

"Another one of wisdom's pearls--why worry when it's just us girls?" Pari cooed gently, pulling her shirt up and over her head to reveal a pair of pendulous breasts that exerted an almost magnetic tug on Miranda's gaze. "Relax, get comfy, rest a spell. Don't let your mind upon it dwell." The rhymes sounded so strained to Miranda's ears that she almost, almost recognized the incongruity of the situation. She almost thought back to the bar, one absurd couplet after another providing nonsensical rationales for everything Miranda convinced herself to do and say and think. She almost remembered what happened when Carrie and Leah and Edwina showed up and attempted to interrupt. She almost noticed the one feature that her mind simply refused to let her dwell on, the delicately pointed ears that made Pari look like some sort of beautiful faery creature out of a child's storybook.

Almost. But not quite. "It is, um... very warm," Miranda murmured, hooking her fingers into the waistband of her skirt and raising her hips to make it easier to tug it down around her ankles. Her panties came with them, and Miranda felt a sudden surge of embarrassment at the very large, very obvious wet spot right in the middle. Right over where her leaking pussy had been. She knew that the other woman would notice, but it was too late to do anything to hide it now.

Sure enough, Pari scooped the panties off the floor with a single finger and held them up in the air with a wicked, delighted smile on her face. "It seems deception's time has passed," she husked out, bringing the article of clothing close enough for Miranda to smell her own arousal clinging to the sheer fabric. "My secret slut revealed at last! But revelation has its thrill--your own scent makes you wetter still." She leaned in, pressing the soft cloth against Miranda's nose and mouth until she couldn't hold her breath any longer and had to inhale.

When she did, it felt like she was breathing in some kind of potent aphrodisiac. Miranda let out a tiny whimper, unable to hide the sudden surge of lust between her thighs. She sagged back onto the mattress, and Pari lay down right along with her until the other woman's weight pressed against Miranda's body, the warmth of Pari's pendulous tits soaking right through Miranda's thin blouse. "I... I shouldn't," the blonde woman mumbled, her lips brushing against the soaking panties with every word and coating her lips with the musk of her own arousal. "I, it's, um, I have a rule...."

"And rules were made to broken be," Miranda growled, yanking open Miranda's blouse so hard that buttons scattered across the bed. "So why not set those worries free? And let my needy hands baptize the fount of lust between your thighs?" It was the most ludicrous rationalization, but Miranda had already sunk so deeply into a fog of slick, hungry arousal that she only needed the slightest suggestion to prime her to give in. She spread her legs, aching to rub her soaking cunt but constrained by the promise within the rhyme of greater pleasures under Pari's touch.

And when Pari sank two fingers into the cleft between Miranda's dripping pussy lips, that promise was instantly, orgasmically fulfilled. "Oh, there's my pretty, slutty pet!" Pari murmured, quickly finding the blonde woman's clit and rubbing it until Miranda's breath came out in a long, shuddering gasp. "She's absolutely soaking wet! My fingers make her weak and dumb! My spell's complete and she must... CUM."

It didn't matter that Pari had been playing with her messy cunt for less than a minute. The moment she heard the growled command, Miranda's eyes rolled back in her head until only the whites showed as a powerful climax smacked her brain like a hundred-foot wave capsizing a pleasure boat. She lost track of her surroundings, seeing only a warm red fog in front of her that smelled just like slick lust and tasted like the most wonderful salty musk. Miranda knew instantly that she needed more of this, needed to have her newfound lesbian desires fulfilled again and again until she was absolutely helpless to resist the wonderful, magical creature whose fingers fucked her absolutely mindless with bliss. "o god," she managed to mutter, before her breath became a choking gasp of utter ecstasy and she forgot what speech was for a while.

When she finally emerged from the orgasmic fog inside her own head, Miranda found herself in a sixty-nine position on the mattress with Pari's furry pussy resting on the young blonde's face and her slick musk dripping into Miranda's mouth. For a moment she paused, confused and uncertain. For all that she knew what she wanted now, she didn't know what to do.

"A sweet reward is what she'll get," Pari murmured softly, her breath tickling Miranda's slick labia. "If she can lick the alphabet." Miranda smiled vacantly, her eyes glazing over in mindless devotion, and she began to attend to her lover's soaking cunt.

THE END