A Day in the Life

Author's note - This is another shortie, written in the desperate days I struggled with the worst case of writer's block of my life. It's a wee bit autobiographical, she said with a smirk, but mostly, like my other offerings, it's purely fiction, ideas that bubble up in the fevered cauldron of my brain. And, much like 'Anja,' it's quite unlike anything I've written to date. I felt the need to create something very different. I hope you enjoy my little tale. ~ AVL ~

*****

"I look at you and I can't help myself."

We had just gotten home after a day of shopping, walking from store to store, canvassing all three levels of the mammoth indoor shopping center.

You stared at me, wide eyed as ever.

"I see them looking at us, eyes flicking from you to me." I smiled. "Always you... first. Then me... as if they're wondering how I got to be so lucky."

The blush began in your cheeks, spreading slowly as you lowered your emerald green eyes, eyes that had flecks of brown and yellow in them - catlike in some respects.

"I take it - them looking - and you, I'm sorry to admit, for granted."

Your eyes widened slightly. I shrugged and stepped closer.

"I know what's underneath the gloriously clothed package that is your body... and I can't help but smirk."

I lifted the silk blue top, taking it over your arms, over your neck, and off.

"I've tasted you, watched as you come completely undone... again and again, your body squirming, helpless."

I felt your heartbeat quicken, heard your breathing become rapid, get shallow.

"I want you!"

I heard the soft whimper.

I looked into cloudy eyes, already heavy, even as you remained silent, standing still.

I unclasped your bra, letting it fall to your hands, and removed it. Your arms remained at your sides, fingers clasping the pockets of your black slacks.

The blush had spread to your neck, having already turned your face a light shade of embarrassed. Like always.

"I know they wonder if you're some famous runway model. I want to laugh - but don't."

It's a source of embarrassment - still. I never have completely figured it out. You're an account exec at a major ad agency. Nothing to be ashamed of. You love it, and you're good at it. Good enough to land a couple of Fortune 50 companies. Anyways...

Your breasts are a thing (or is it things?) of beauty. Standing tall on your chest, their pointy tips a subtle shade of pink, they fit perfectly in my mouth. Other than a spot on your neck just below and behind your ears, your nipples are your most sensitive spot. It's been so long now since I've found those treasures that I admit to taking them for granted.

Until, of course, we're in bed, naked, writhing, dueling, each of us trying to give the other one more thing more than the last, frantic time we... what is the right word for the wanton fury of our lovemaking??

'Fuck' is so crude... but in some ways that says it perfectly.

Making love, at least to me, has a sweetness that, while it's present at every turn, each time we couple, doesn't take into account the fullness, how completely at ease we are with each other, the abandon with which we give ourselves to each other.

My head is cluttered with this kind of crap, which serves no real purpose but to keep you there, in my every thought, filling my senses with the memory of you.

I unclasp your slacks and let them fall. Your eyes plead with me, begging me to stop teasing and start... well, teasing.

My smile is mostly a smirk; your eyes get sharp.

I lean in and kiss you; a quick brush. You don't move your hands. You know better.

We don't speak of it, but you've given me permission to be in control when we love.

Um, of course, when we do, and after I've had my fill of you, and it's your turn to take what you want from me... dear god. I mentioned how you fill my mind with memories of your scent - and so much more.

I can call up everything about how you took me, pushed me through the erotic wringer of your ravaging., edging me, making me cry out in despair and want, squirming wildly on the bed... or the couch, or on the kitchen counter, or the desk where you do your after hours nonsense left over from work.

I shiver at the thought as my eyes take in your lean, curvy form. It's familiar, of course. Hour after hour spent exploring, mapping every crevice, each soft hill, every shivering inch of all of you.

I feel the familiar lump in my throat as I devour you with my eyes.

I look up and into yours. Your eyes call to me, begging me to start.

I smile. It's fun, so fabulous, that we communicate so clearly without needing to speak.

I push my hand between your legs, feeling the wetness that has formed - just from my gaze and the minimal amount of touching I've done... so far.

I lean in and kiss you again. This time I let the kiss linger.

You open your mouth, offering yourself to me.

My turn to whimper. I feel the smile as my tongue enters you; this dance is one that you know drives me over the edge of control.

My fingers move to your head, digging deep into the black waves of gorgeous that is your hair.

Your fabulous locks are but a part of why the masses stare at you when we're out. You have it professionally done; styled in the latest and greatest fashions.

I see them stare and can't resist a smile.

They have no idea what that mess of gorgeous looks like, damp with effort, as your head flips from side to side as we love. As I destroy you. Again.

Even as we kiss I push your panties off your hips. You wiggle to help gravity do its work.

As you stand naked before me, I begin to take my clothes off. I push out of my shoes as I lift my blouse from inside my slacks. As I do that, you unclasp my bra, letting it fall after its journey to my fingers.

Your fingers toy with my nipples. I don't push your hands away, letting you have your way with me - and them.

I have big, puffy nipples, not the smooth peaks that top yours.

It's always interesting to be with someone new and compare features. We're both 34C and we're so different.

My breasts are losing their battle with gravity. It can't be helped. My butt isn't what it was when I was younger, either.

There have been women who've made me feel icky... even though nothing was said. Those relationships, some of which were... lusty, were brief. Either she moved on or I tired of... it. I'm sure those of you reading know exactly what I mean.

Anyway... you finished with me, both of us now naked. I knew what my level of arousal was.

Honestly, I never needed you to edge me. You were... no, are... my erogenous zone. All five foot seven of you. All 115-ish pounds of you.

(She'd kill me if I actually told you how much "ish" is. Winkeroonies.)

Your hand extends. Surprised, I look up into eyes that burn bright with desire.

I extend my hand, placing it in yours.

I think I'm about to be dinner... or is it dessert??

This is new! And I think I like it.

We walk from the kitchen to the couch. Oh?

"On your back. You can put a leg on the carpet or over the back of the couch."

Your voice is husky, thick, dark, lustful. I want to swoon but simply do as you... ask.

I admit I didn't know what you were doing. Was it a softly issued order? Or a hushed request.

I felt my center pooling with moisture. This is what you do to me!

I have to keep extra panties in the back corner of the bottom drawer of my desk at work. smh Several, to be honest.

I expected you to join me but you leaned in, kissed me, and whispered, "I'll be right back." I nodded. "Don't move."

Two words.

Who is she, this woman of mine?

This is new, so unlike you... us.

My heart thudded wildly in my chest as my eyes followed you as you left me. Stark naked, panting, trembling with desire, totally confuckulated. Hey! It really is a word. Look it up if you don't believe me!! And it's perfect for this me in this moment. Okay?

I closed my eyes to preserve the snapshot of you that my eyes took as you wandered away from me, hips swaying in that uniquely feminine way that we walk.

Okay, I'll share this. I finally saw my own hips and ass sway. Shrug. Curiosity I suppose. I had a full length mirror on my bedroom door. I couldn't figure out how to do what every other damn person - female and male (UGH!) was doing until it hit me. I took my makeup mirror, held it so it was aimed at the big one, and walked away.

Not bad!! Given my age (shut up! not telling!! :: faux steely glare ::) my assets did pretty well for themselves.

And you like them. My assets that is.

I squirmed, wondering, eyes closed, what you were up to.

I felt your hair swath my face and opened my eyes at exactly the moment you kissed me. I opened my mouth and, greedily, took in your tongue, dueling with you, hungrily.

Your fingers slid between my breasts, hurrying over my tummy, past my pubic bone, into the scented swamp of my sex.

Involuntarily, my back arched to greet you as your fingers teased. I whimpered into your mouth, begging, helpless with a desire so thick, so rich, so devastatingly scorching that I felt I might come apart from inside.

"My baby is burning up. Need something?" Childlike in its lilt.

As if to further inflame me, your mouth took hold of a nipple, devouring me, teasing me, torturing me further.

I felt myself arch again, the rich burn of the fabulous desire that was your touch tearing me apart. As always.

I had a fleeting thought.

If I were to die in that instant, my lone regret would be the lack of the orgasm that lurked so close to the surface.

Waiting was a deliciously awaited torture, the ecstasy of the inevitable climax always yearned for, impatiently.

I swear that is what horny is... our bodies craving the delicious need that close, intimate contact with that special someone brings.

You do it for me, give it to me, in a way no other ever has.

It's part of why I strive to give you everything you want, could ever need, and so much more.

Neither of us gives expecting a return. It's why we love each other during those icky weeks Mama Nature... shiver. We take turns during those times, pleasuring, knowing the other will have her turn.

The only problem with scissoring is there's not as much body contact. Yeah, big sacrifice right? I'm laughing.

I cried out when you pushed... how many damn fingers is it? Three I think. Geezuz!!

It came as if out of the blue... which is nonsense of course.

I was so turned on from the moment we got in the car... let alone the brilliant foreplay that had gone on.

My body was frozen with the brilliant explosion that was my orgasm. The devil of it screamed its way through me, zooming, careening, from the far north to the southern tips of my toes, leaving me weak with bliss, hungry for more, and devastated when it finally slipped back into its hiding place.

I know you felt the walls of my pussy as they gripped you, quivering, shuddering, much as the rest of me was.

Your mouth had moved from peak to peak, devouring me, bathing me with your tongue.

Your free hand caressed heated, quivering skin, hot to the touch on my fire ravaged form.

As I gulped, desperate for much needed fresh oxygen, you lowered your head between my breasts, laying gently as my chest rose and fell.

I wanted to reach for you, smooth my fingers through your hair, but wasn't sure that I could.

Eventually my heart slowed, as did my breathing, and I regained some semblance of control over my body.

"You're evil," was said in a soft, raspy whisper, my voice still shockingly thick.

Gleaming eyes met mine as you bent to my lips, taking me with a hungry kiss.

Fingers teased a sore, wet nipple.

You lifted from my mouth, you bitch, before saying, "And I've only started!"

What? She who gave me permission to lead is now leading? When did this happen? There was no memo!!

The fire in my loins burned hot again, just that quickly. You had been kneeling as you'd ravaged me.

I felt my eyes widen as I took in your surprise.

We had, on a whim, gone toy shopping. Oh my god!!

There was the funniest dildo, named "Mr. Perfect." As if the name alone wasn't hysterical, it came with a suction cup at the base, so, as the box trumpeted, you could "have your way with him." Eyerollius maximus!

No, we didn't buy that one, though it was tempting!!

You reached for the box that had that name - John Holmes. Mm hmm, all 12 inches of him. My jaw hung in disbelief as my disbelieving ears heard you say, "I want this one, baby."

"But... but... " I sputtered.

Eyes sparkled with mischief and mirth as you whispered, "Is my baby afraid of this monster?"

Well fuck yeah!! I'm no virgin... but geez!!

"How many times do you think you can make me cum when you fuck me with it?"

I shivered, much like I did when you whispered in my ear that day. I had to reach for the shelf the packages sat on, fearful my legs might not be up to the task of keeping me upright.

You'd always insisted that the plastic invader was mine to fuck you with. This, it seemed, was to be my maiden voyage, so to speak.

"How many times do you think I can make you cum when I fuck you with it?"

Speechless, I looked into your eyes, even as kitty moonwalked, greedy bitch that she is!!

Trying to muster a false bravado, I hissed, "Try me, bitch!"

Your eyes widened, then your smile blossomed, full and wide.

"Game on, honey!"

Well just fuck me stupid!

She, um, did!

Lord help me she did.

Up one side of the street and down the other.

Floor by desperate floor, the elevator ride to the top and back was stupendous.

I might not be able to walk without a wince for a week, but oh my god, what a Saturday that was.

She led me to the bedroom where my destruction was to take place.

I also saw the final gesture of her taking that was laid out on the bed.

I stopped dead in my tracks as I saw the scarves and other devices.

I turned and looked at her, eyes wide with shock and surprise.

A triumphant ear-to-ear grin split her gorgeous face.

"Tables turned, my dear. Your plans are for naught. I'm driving today."

Every molecule in me shivered.

She ran her hand between my legs. I was so busted.

"Someone seems excited, yes!"

My mouth opened and nothing came out but a pitiful, futile squeak.

Those eyes, those damnable, glorious, gleaming eyes burned with victory.

How long had she been planning this? How long had this secret lain untapped?

"Come on you? Up on the bed, on your back, so you can receive your reward."

Reward? What on earth? Who is this woman? Who has laid to waste the gorgeous vessel of my yearning? My endless ocean of pleasure, to be given in copious quantities each and every time we made love.

My wrists were being bound, my legs, my ankles bound and spread, as she spoke.

"You'll thank me for this when I'm through with you."

Fear, raw panic, raced from pillar to post. "When I'm through with you?" Dear god!

I think my heart could have lit a small suburb.

I was so wet when she pushed into me I never felt any pain. None. Zero.

I felt her when she bottomed out in me.

I don't remember a lot. I have no idea how long we fucked, how many times I came, or much else in the way of detail.

I have no memory of being set free. It's all a dim fog.

I can only guess that she pulled the covers over us. I don't remember falling asleep.

All I remember is waking up with a start, and gasp of deep, burning pain from my sex when I jerked.

I smiled, remembering. Well, remembering what I could.

The woman I love lay beside me, in soft repose, still dead to the world.

I could spend hours watching as my beauty slept.

Eventually she awakened. She saw me watching and smiled.

"Morning."

I gasped as I leaned to kiss her.

The bitch giggled.

"Sore are we?"

I bit her lip.

"You bitch!"

My turn to giggle.

"Go make breakfast, slut. Bacon, coffee, and whatever else you want."

"Potato chips?" We both laughed.

There had been this story we'd read where one of the characters talked about being a potato chip whore. We had laughed so long and so hard all we could do was hold each other as we gasped for air.

"No Twizzlers today, okay?"

I knew it was coming but couldn't hold back the laughter.

"Deal!," was all I could muster.

And that's how our Sunday began!

This has been a story about a day in the life of two lesbians in love. I hope you enjoyed us... um, this.

B'bye now!!

*****

Author's note - It's been suggested that the end of the story leaves all kinds of options about how the scene might have played out. If you'd like to add your thoughts about what may have happened the rest of their night, please feel free to leave it as part of your comment. Think of it as a community adding to a story!! Soft smile ~ AVL ~