Crossing the Divide

Naomi’s tiny skirt became history in an instant. And her (also sodden) panties didn’t cover much.

But she still had on her sheer nylon stockings. Out of seemingly nowhere, Heather wanted to feel that supreme fabric against her, tightly grasping her, preferably with two strong legs wrapped tight around her urgently moving back.

‘Socks and knickers,’ she said, amazed her voice sounded so calm. ‘I’ll take off mine before you take off your . . . your thong or whatever you call it. But leave on your stockings. Your stocking are a must.’

Chapter Six

Being a proactive sort of a girl, Heather sank to her knees as soon as Naomi discarded her panties, eating her with great enthusiasm. She recognized the tastes and smells too, alcoholic amnesia or not.

Yes, she had definitely buried her nose in that fanny before. Her nose, tongue, fingers and goodness knew what else; only the vaguest memories maybe, but all of them positive.

Naomi’s response was off the scale. For a supposedly straight woman she was suddenly bucking as if she was breaking a bronco; bucking and shrieking like a banshee.

Accustomed to grateful responses as she was, Heather glowed inside.

In all honesty, she glowed in places most familiar to a gynaecologist.

Eating Naomi was beyond mere fun. And wasn’t she appreciating it! Copious with her own lady juice as Heather was, she was seriously impressed. However low on a learning curve she might be, this girl was in there with a will.

Yes, with a will and the ability to cum multiply.

Kindred spirit or what!

Eventually, deciding it was time to progress, Heather stood, scooping her guest up in her arms, taking her to the patiently awaiting bed. Naomi gasped at being swept off her feet (literally) and laughed as if she’d only just guessed her destination.

‘I’ve never been so aroused,’ she murmured. ‘The answer is yes to anything and everything.’

Heather strongly suspected that her idea of “everything” was oceans away from Naomi’s. But she had already planned a certain course of action. Having the girl there on her back, her legs wide, showing no sign of any reluctance and the ravenous appetite of a lioness . . .

Well, there was only one way to go, wasn’t there.

So Heather just as ravenously went for it.

*****

Reclogging her nostrils was no hardship. Neither was having Naomi orgasm beneath her.

That was as fine as sex got.

The world’s sexiest, slenderest yet still strong set of hips, thrusting up hard, ever wanting more from her, practically insatiable, thrusting incessantly, always thrusting . . .

It was tricky not to be flattered.

It was also tricky not to want to give Naomi more of the same for ever and ever.

Superhumanly, Heather stopped eating and brought herself upright, on Naomi, sliding her slick wet sex over the dusky beauty’s sweaty, appreciative skin. Sliding and sliding, not pausing to make one tiny suggestion, letting her progress speak for whatever it meant.

(Destination mouth: that’s what it meant!)

Naomi responded with lips and tongue, not seeming reticent in any way at all.

How could an innocent girl react like that? How could she so instantly excel!

Not that Heather wasted much time marvelling. Instead she took her turn to buck and thrust, gasping out loud, expressing the most sincere moans and groans of appreciation in her extensive repertoire.

Then, out of nowhere, Naomi switched from kissing and licking to chewing; not hard, not really hard at all, but certainly hard enough to be noticed.

Cue Heather cumming like Old Faithful, except twice as powerfully.

Naomi didn’t seem to mind being drenched by thousands of gallons of boiling hot fluid, not her. On the contrary, she seemed to be greatly encouraged. Switching back to lips and tongue she carried on and on and on.

If she’d had any air left in her lungs Heather would have cheered.

*****

Maybe half an hour later . . . maybe much more . . . Heather lay on her back and sighed. She adored sex and had always preferred experienced girls but, innocent or nay, Naomi was simply stupendous. Everything about her was luscious. Never mind her lovely personality, she had genuine charisma.

And she couldn’t half shag!

Expert in the subject, Heather liked shagging. A handful of blokes were okay at it but most were good as useless; twice in a night? What good was that! Who wanted a mere twice with thirty possibilities or more there in the equation?

But what was Naomi’s take on all-nighters? Some girls were as useless as guys after the first hour or two. A lot weren’t, of course, but there were learning curves and mind-sets to take into account.

Still a trifle anxious about Naomi, she stayed as she was, breathing as slowly as possible and keeping her hands to herself.

‘Like I said,’ Naomi said apropos of nothing, ‘I masturbated thinking about you earlier. And it wasn’t for the first time.’

‘I’m honoured,’ Heather replied awkwardly. ‘Truly I am.’

‘Fuck honour. Fuck me instead.’

So much for learning curves and mind-sets!

Besides, it would have been rude not to.

*****

Heather introduced her new lover to the joys of a long, leisurely sixty-nine, taking care to alternate top and bottom, already assured of the skill of Naomi’s tongue. After maybe two hours of alternating, with her currently topping, it occurred to her the time had come to trib.

What a good idea was that!

And didn’t Naomi take to tribbing well. Within moments Heather’s wish came true and silk-stockinged legs were gripping her tightly as she urgently thrust and thrust and thrust.

The sensations were awesome: sleek nylon moving on bare flesh and, better still, a very wet fanny on an equally wet fanny. Unprompted, Naomi arched her lower body, offering herself with eagerness and taking everything that came her way.

In other words she was a sitting target and, having once been a farm girl, Heather didn’t miss sitting targets, be they ducks, rabbits or any other small, tasty creatures.

Joking aside, shagging with Naomi was bliss. Not to mention very moreish. They must have been at it six hours altogether before Heather remembered her promise to provide “snacks”.

‘I won’t have much in the way of food,’ she said as she exited the bedroom. ‘Cheese on crackers is as good as it’s likely to get. I don’t food shop often.’

‘Do you wine shop?’

That made Heather laugh. ‘Oh yes,’ she confirmed, ‘wine is no problem. I prefer pinot and Shiraz, but other varieties are available.’

‘Pinot and Shiraz sound good to me. And I prefer Lancashire cheese.’

‘Yeah, well you’d better rein in your hopes. Stale Red Leicester or mouldy Cheddar is much more on the cards.’

‘I’ll risk whatever you rustle up,’ said Naomi. ‘If you’ll eat it, so will I.’

(Her accompanying shrug bounced her breasts, and very becomingly at that.)

To Heather’s surprise she found a packet of crackers within their sell-by date and several packets of cheese. Most of the packs of cheese were already open (maybe not mouldy yet, but probably beyond their sell-by) and one unopened, still in date.

And ye gods, it really was Lancashire!

‘Tonight’s my lucky night,’ she said cheerfully, liberally pasting butter onto two dozen crackers before generously applying slices of the local cheese.

Choosing the vino wasn’t so easy. At heart she favoured Shiraz but she sensed Naomi preferred pinot and Naomi was after all, her guest. So, after due deliberation, she grabbed herself two bottles of white and one of red. Then, because she had a lot to carry, she recruited the assistance of a wooden tray.

‘Here I am,’ she declared, kicking open her bedroom door, ‘a naked whore bearing bountiful gifts.’

Then her eyes narrowed.

Last she’d seen Naomi was flat out on the bed, purring and waiting for . . . well, snacks and very likely a lot more close, personal attention.

But now she was up and exploring. And guess where she was exploring.

‘That’s my toy drawer,’ Heather said accusingly.

‘I can see that,’ Naomi replied. ‘And I know it’s infamous. That’s why I had to have a look for myself.’

‘It’s supposed to be private.’

‘That’s not what the girls on The Corner say. They think that it’s open season, every day of the year.’

Then, stark naked and grinning broadly, ‘I can guess the use of most of your toys, but what are these expensive silk scarves for; all one thousand and one of them?’

Heather shrugged, hoping her boobs bounced as becomingly as Naomi’s. ‘They’re for tying-up games and occasionally I use them as blindfolds.’

‘Oh my, you are perverted, aren’t you?’

‘No, I’m an adult who likes to have fun. Tying-up games aren’t perverted. Not when I’m involved.’

‘Do you always do the tying-up?’

‘It depends who I’m with. More often than not we take turns.’

‘Hmmm,’ went Naomi, replacing a multi-coloured selection of scarves. ‘Is that Lancashire cheese I spy on that tray?’

‘It is. And I have gallons of vino to wash it down with. Close that drawer and come, enjoy.’

Chapter Seven

Afterwards Heather could never credit it. By some strange logic she sank two bottles or more of plonk while Naomi restricted herself to a couple of glasses. And, following another master class in the art of tribbing (or should that be mistress class?), she somehow fell asleep.

Flipping Naomi must have contrived it. Indeed it was beyond doubt. She, the girl who never fell asleep on the job, had just done so two nights on the trot.

Maybe she’d been influenced by Rohypnol or something.

More likely she’d just been a greedy pig and slurped direct from the bottle neck; no, perhaps she had slurped direct from three bottle necks.

Anyhow, whatever the excuse, she’d undoubtedly, shamefully dropped off before all was done.

Again!

Only to awake to find herself tied fast by her arms to her own bed, bound by her own silk scarves . . . and blindfolded by yet another, to boot.

‘Hey,’ she protested, for once unsure of herself.

‘Tough luck, cookie,’ Naomi replied. ‘You had illicit fun with me yesterday morning, now it’s my turn.’

‘Naomi, please . . .’

‘Not listening.’

That last was said with a definite air of finality.

Torn between enthusiasm and fear, Heather wondered what lay in store for her. That secret drawer of hers held all sorts of treats. As a non-lezzie she suspected Naomi wouldn’t understand all of them. As a woman she suspected Naomi would swiftly get up to speed.

‘Listen,’ she began carefully (oblivious to having being told that “listening” was out of the question). ‘I’ll be up for any game you want to play. Just uncover my eyes.’

‘We’re going to play lots of games,’ Naomi countered, ‘but uncovering eyes doesn’t come into it.’

‘It wasn’t my fault it was dark yesterday morning.’

‘Maybe not, but I liked it. Leastways I did after the fact. Now shut up and let me progress.’

Naomi’s tongue on her felt better than ever. Heather’s protests lasted less than a minute. Then she was cumming massively and emitting banshee shrieks of her own.

‘More, more, more,’ she yelled, ‘yes, yes, yes!’

Very little change there, then.

Bound and blindfolded Heather truly was at Naomi’s mercy; knowing that made her both hot and cold.

The girl was relatively innocent and sweet, if not dainty. She had never detected an ounce of malice in her, rugby brawls aside. Yet she’d never been bound, blindfolded and at her mercy before, had she?

Turned out she needn’t have worried.

Forever gentle, Naomi proceeded to shag Heather with a wide variety of (Heather’s own) toys, using almost all of them apart from the double-ender, any one of her harnesses and the strapless strap-on.

As an experience it was second to none. Heather only wished she had been blindfold-free and able to see Naomi’s face as she switched between rabbit, basic vibrator and everyday dildo.

Not that she didn’t ask, beg and plead. As if Naomi heeded. She stuck religiously to her own agenda.

And, Heather had to agree, it wasn’t a bad one.

But then, after a lengthy spell of shagging a hungry fanny with one of Heather’s larger dildos, Naomi called time.

‘My hand feels like it’s dropping off,’ she complained. ‘There are red crease marks on my wrist.’

Silence ensued, Heather back in breath-catching mode, her guest who knew where, doing who knew what.

‘Naomi,’ she ventured eventually, ‘where are you? Are you still here?’

The bedsprings recoiled in response as somebody re-joined her on the mattress.

‘I’m definitely still here,’ Naomi assured her. ‘It just took a while to work out how your thingy works’

‘What thingy are you on about?’

‘The black leather thingy with all those adjustable straps; I think I’ve finally got it, and I selected one of the more interesting inserts.’

Good grief, she’d equipped herself with a harness!

And some of those dildos really were interestingly shaped . . .

‘Listen, my darling,’ Heather babbled, ‘this is a practiced skill. It is if I’ve guessed right, anyway . . .’

In response Naomi drew the tip of a dildo . . . probably the very knobbly purple one . . . slowly up and down her clit.

‘Men do it all the time,’ she practically whispered, ‘so it can’t be too tricky. And my wrist is wasted but my lower body isn’t. Let me learn as I go along.’

Without waiting for an answer . . . be it positive, negative or otherwise . . . she boarded Heather like a pirate boarding a galleon laden with gold.

‘Careful,’ gasped Heather.

Again she needn’t have worried. Naomi’s touch was as gentle as a dove, being penetrated by her was not a chore, it was a great privilege, and rutting with her . . .

Well it was beyond brilliant. Their “tribbing” roles reversed, Heather wrapped her bare legs around the girl’s bare back just as tight as tight could be, relishing every last stroke, breaking universal cumming records, enjoying herself as much as ever before.

‘Wonderful,’ she wailed, ‘don’t stop . . . whatever you do, please don’t stop.’

Obviously into all-nighters after all, Naomi dutifully obliged.

Bliss, bliss, bliss!!

*****

After the best shagging she’d ever had Heather might have dozed off again. Maybe she blinked at the wrong time behind her sleek blindfold. Next she knew Naomi was straddling her, harness-free, clearly intending to do a little face-sitting of her own.

‘Please,’ Heather gasped, ‘think about it. I didn’t do this in a blackout, I let you see.’

Naomi seemed to consider a moment before removing the blindfold.

Heather practically squealed at the sudden explosion of light. ‘What time is it?’ she managed.

‘It’s now ten twenty-three, Sunday morning; and a sunny Sunday morning at that. I hope you haven’t missed some sporting engagement. And I hope you enjoyed your extended lie-in.’

‘I’ll enjoy it more if you unfasten my arms.’

‘How do I know you won’t overpower me, using kung fu and karate to beat me to a pulp?’

‘Because I promise you I won’t. And because I want to hold your ass while you ride my tongue.’

‘Well, you would say that . . .’

‘I’m saying it because it’s true. You have a divine ass. I can’t tell you how much I want to hold onto it.’

After another pause for consideration Naomi unfastened the rest of Heather’s bonds. Being released triggered an acute attack of cramp. Never mind “red creases” on her wrists, Heather’s arms suddenly seemed to belong to someone else right then.

Leastways she seriously wished they belonged to someone else.

But she was a strong, extremely healthy woman. Thirty seconds and the cramp had reduced itself to pins and needles. Thirty seconds after that everything was functional and her hands were gripping a tight hold on the sexiest buttocks in the known world.

Then, in no time at all Naomi was matching her in the Old Faithful department.

Not that Naomi erupted every hour and a bit; she was more like every five minutes.

And Heather loved every last gush.