She was named by a revolutionary army leader. She wore revolution, it covered her body in images and sacred texts. Her blood carried imprisoned family members, intellectual writers, activists and academics with her wherever she roamed. Her language was full of songs, stories and history. She told me herself almost as warning, that she studied, wrote, drank, danced and fucked with sometimes, sleep for good measure.
On a very sleepy Berlin night we ventured out to find beer and excitement. We found beer, lots of beer. Once we finally mastered the accent, we ordered like the brazen broads we were at home, without jet-lag. Walking home she taught me a traditional song, explaining the oral traditions of the culture and the importance of women, how respected they were. All I could do was wish for the v of her hand embroidered shirt to slide over exposing her areola and during particular drunkenly passionate verses her entire nipple.
Nipples make me crazy, I am a slave to nipples, especially that unexpected slip. This was before the days of Janet Jackson 's super bowl nippleversy and J-lo's Oscar nip slip, hell even before Internet porn mind you, the nipple still had power.
She was that women, the one even straight women would sleep with if given the chance, just to have that accent slide over their naked body and to be the focus of her passion.
It may have been youth, bravery, stupidity I don't know I wish I did, what ever it was, she's not the type of girl you'd ask what got her, what you did that was so right for fear, of ever risking a repeat performance.
We were walking along, staggering along, arm in arm holding eachother for support and we slipped over a small hedge in the dark. On the other side in the moist grass hid from the city I lightly kissed her neck, that was right beside my mouth. She laid on top of me in a giggling heap of drunkenness and ease.
I kissed her neck again in small gentle kisses then gentle bites. Sliding and coiling her around me so that I was on top of her in the grass. We both had long waist length hair that we had both taken down at the bar and it was now flowing over our faces and bodies.
I slid her white shirt off over her head and placed it behind her head. 'Oh you are a gentleman' she laughed. She lay there in the damp grass glowing and warm. She reached into her bag and pulled out a cheap bottle of new wine. 'In the bar I thought about you pouring this on my breasts' she said handing me the bottle.
New wine has no cork, it's too precarious if corked it can explode right on the grocery shelves. I opened the bottle and lifted her head and offered her a drink. 'An offering to the god Bakus', she laughed.
I poured a small amount into the palm of my hand and gently began massaging it onto her left breast using my entire wet palm. Her nipple stood and thanked me. 'I've been with boys too long' she said, 'I lack imagination in these areas. I expected you just to pour all over me, but it looks like you have a plan far greater'.
Being a woman with large breasts, I know about the sensitive underside of breasts that so rarely get touched. Rubbing the wine into her breasts, first the right then the left from her nipples, outwards to her full breast that filled two hands, ending on that soft round curve moving down her ribs and stomach.
Now pouring and licking, sucking, biting, she moaned and her solid breasts began to lactate, softening as the the liquid flowed.
I felt flattered at the raw abandonment and began massaging her abdomen with the mix of liquids.
Years before as a baby dyke I'd had the pleasure to have a sexual encounter with a much older, much more experienced dyke, who thankfully was an excellent lover. She had this great move that involved massaging the stomach, hips, thighs and inner thighs and then picking me up by my hips and massaging my ass up in the air then sliding my body back down. She did it in a this flowing, smooth endless wave, in repeated succession that did lovely things to the clit and lips. Doing it from waist to knee is a guaranteed turn on, it's tricky to master but worth the time and attention to detail. Do it to any woman and you'll be a rockstar.
She moaned and ungulated beneath me arching her back in rhythm with my pulls and lifts. Because I had been so successful up top, I made sure to return to her nipples and breasts and would shift my attention back to her torso lifting it off the grass, anchoring her ass into the ground, wondering about removing her panties and skirt.
'I don't have English, the blood isn't in my brain' she laughed. 'Speak in Spanish', I whispered in her ear as I bit it gently. I think it was poetry, maybe her grocery list whatever it was it was slow and deliberate and included gasps and moans and although I don't speak a word of Spanish, I knew it was approval to go further.
I slid up the short skirt she had on.
'Can I take these off?' I asked biting at the waist band of her panties.
Sí she whispered little, tiny, a sound I would never expect from her.
With my teeth I pulled her panties down around her feet, slipped of her sandals , then slipped off her panties, I folded them up and slid them into her jacket pocket.
We were students, in an expensive foreign country and trust me as a free willed girl loosing quality underwear can become really pricey.
She laughed at the gesture, 'Thank you. They are my favorites you know'.
There she lay before me the most beautiful vibrant woman I had ever seen naked and ready, waiting for me. In my imagination we where in the long grass somewhere in Wicklow Ireland but in reality we were in some repressed German's front lawn in the middle of the city, right in their garden. As sweet as our passion was, the dweller wouldn't have been happy.
I massaged her feet and legs with wine, adorning her entire body, a ceremonial preparation for the feast.
I cupped her ass in my hands lifting it slightly off the ground, further parting her open legs with my elbows seamlessly raising her knees up onto my shoulders. While gently massaging her ass with my palms and fingers my thumbs began to apply pressure to her lips and clit. Lowering her ass onto the ground, sliding her feet onto my shoulders.
I kissed down her stomach moving down and parting her open wide with my entire mouth holding her lips with my jaw, while licking from her ass to her clit, massaging her nipples with both my hands. I sat with my feet under me, circling my heels on my own clit.
Licking again from her ass to her clit this time dragging my tongue applying deep pressure moving it quickly side to side. Placing my tongue inside her licking the roof her of vagina like an index finger suggesting one come closer three times resulted in a flood of soft, velvety liquid- definitely not wine.
'Now it is your turn' she said, her eyes not yet focused.
'You have been with men too long' I laughed, pouring the remaining wine on hand.
'Have you ever been fisted', I ask, smiling.
'What is a fisted', she asks. I raise my hand, folding down my fingers into a fist.
'No you are the first woman', she says looking nervous.
'You will enjoy it, I promise'.
'I believe you', she says.
I slide a finger into her, she has tightened up, nervous.
I'm touched to be her first and although very drunk, I understand the need to shift into a gentle and slow gear. I wished I had known 15 minutes ago, but decide to stay in the moment.
I slowly turn my finger in large semi-circles, she drips down my hand. I added a second finger , circling moving deep then back out to her lips. Adding gradually a third and forth finger with my thumb tickling her clit. Pouring more wine onto my right hand I rub the inside of her thigh, sliding up to kiss her nipples neck and ears. Gently parting her open with my left hand I slowly slide my right fist into her up, first fingers, then my large large knuckles right up to my wrist.
'Does that feel okay?', I asked looking into her eyes.
'Oh god' she says thrust her hips and fucking my hand, looking like she will burst into tears at any moment, almost fearful of the overwhelming pleasure.
'Gently now', I say sliding my fist out only to have her began thrusting aggressively against it, warm liquid running down my hand pooling in the bend of my elbow. I licked the index finger on my other hand and slipped it into her ass.
She fucked hard and deep until my hand cramped and I was in agonizing pain. She continued for what seemed like another 20 minutes although I'm sure it was only 3-5.
I purred encouraging words, trying to convert my own pain into pleasure.
She had been dead silent for the last few minutes, she began slowing down and fucking my hand softly. I slide it out rubbing the inside of her thighs, her legs and her stomach. Slipping my finger out of her ass. Rubbing my hands together I started at her head and rubbed her entire body down to her feet, it was something I had seen in a Karma Sutra video and I always thought it was the sweetest most loving thing one could do after such an intense event.
I laid down in the grass beside her, her chest heaved for air.
She said something quickly in spanish.
'What is it, I asked, are you okay'.
'I was just thanking Madonna', she said laughing.
The dew had set in and we were both quickly turning cold and wet.
'We need to get you back to the dorm for a hot shower.'
'But you', she motioned.
'Oh I'm good, I came three or four times just being part of that. We should get back before this house owner wakes up for work'.
She dressed quickly, we were suddenly aware of just where we were. We walked back to the dorm sticky, slippery, wet and very, very happy.