Death and the Maiden

She took a breath.

"I want to give myself a cock and fuck you with it," she said, in a breathless rush.

Her fingers paused as I squinted at her, trying to understand.

"A... strap on?"

"No."

"Um..."

I rolled away from her and raised myself on my elbow. I must have looked very puzzled because she began to chuckle.

"Your face tells a story," she said, gleefully.

"Are you telling me you... can change your...equipment?"

"Yeah. Well... some of it. Not that I do it much, given my particular speciality... but... it's always an option for us."

"You guys get to have all the fun," I said, tartly. "How am I only learning this now?"

She laughed; flames flickered deep in her eyes.

"Because I... didn't want to scare you," she breathed. She leaned forward to nuzzle against my shoulder. "I like what we have. I didn't want to... risk it."

I settled back down.

"So... why now?" I said.

She found my nipple with her fingertips and trailed my slick dampness on and around it; I closed my eyes and shivered, knowing that the next thing she did would be to tongue it.

And she did; I let out a soft moan.

"I love that sound. But... mainly... look, I really enjoy having my fingers and tongue in you, Gwen. I don't think I could tell you how much. It's just... it's something I like. Sometimes. With... with specific partners. And I'd... I'd just really like to be even deeper in you once or twice. To... to be that intimate with you. So..."

"I've... never really. Except for..."

"I know," she said; her eyes darkened for just a moment. "That's why I asked; anyone else I'd just have turned onto their tummy and climbed on and... not really given them a choice. I'm bad that way. But I couldn't do that to you. I couldn't," she added, in a whisper.

"You're... very gentle with me," I said, softly. I reached out to touch her cheek.

She seemed to struggle to meet my gaze. "I just like being like this with you, is all," she muttered. "So... I mean... if you don't want to..."

I thought for a moment.

Jezebel would never willingly hurt me; I was certain of that.

It was actually an easy choice - I wanted to please her.

"I'd... I'm... curious, I guess. About what the fuss is," I admitted. "I really enjoy your fingers and tongue on my body. If... if you have more to you that you can show me, well... I'm willing to... try. Um. Is... how big are we talking about?"

"Want to see?" she said, with a strange little grin.

"Yes. I'd like to see," I answered, softly, voice shaking ever so slightly.

She put her hand to her crotch, and did something, and underneath her fingers a penis seemed to... to shift into view as though a mirror was being pulled aside.

It immediately began to swell and stiffen, and the wrinkled pouch below it tightened and shrank upwards against her body.

I stared down at her, watching open mouthed as she grew hard and rigid.

"Fuck," I whispered. "That's... that's big. Um... isn't it... uncomfortable?"

"Yes. But not for the reason you might think. When I'm hot and hard like this I want to be in someone. Right now, and to be honest most of the time when I do this... that someone is you."

She was flushed; she'd admitted something she hadn't perhaps meant to.

"Are you getting soft on me?" I teased, as the hot crawling flush spread over my cheeks and neck.

Her eyebrow arched upwards. We grinned at one another.

"Sorry," I whispered. "Terrible pun."

She reached out, and lay backwards, and put my fingers to her, letting out a low sound of need as my skin touched hers.

"It's... so warm..." I exclaimed.

"I always get so... turned on when I do this, it's almost unbearable," she panted as she arched backwards, belly quivering once. "It's double... no, triple-unbearable with you here, staring at me like that..."

"What should I..."

"Just... move your fingers like this for a bit...up and down... oh... oh fuck me that's nice..."

I could feel her... her penis, I thought, grinning suddenly... it was pulsing. Probably in time with her heartbeat. Ridges of structure under the hot skin, arching slightly, angling upwards towards her. She was as scrupulously hairless as normal; Jezebel liked to have nothing between her and the air.

I could see literally every inch of her.

"It's really impressive. And so hard... can I... Jezebel, can I... I mean, I know it's supposed to feel good if I suck it, so can I for you?"

"Oh, now... now that's a nice thought..." she said, grinning up at me.

She shimmied and gasped a breath as I touched the swollen head with my lips. A tiny bead of fluid had formed on the small hole in the tip, it tasted musky, salty...

I tongued it; Jezebel whimpered, then she out a low, animalistic moan as I took her hot head into my mouth and closed my lips over it.

She arched up, raising herself on her elbows as she stared at me.

I posed, glancing up at her, eyebrow arched as I trailed my tongue slowly over the small bit of her I'd been able to take.

"You have... just no idea how hot it is... to see you doing that to me," she whimpered. She reached out and stroked the line between my lips and her new appendage.

"Oh, your mouth is so nice on me like that. And I love how your hair's... masking. Gwen... oh, Gwen, that is sublime..."

I smiled, slipped her slowly out of me, then took her in again, loving the way I felt her legs tensing under me, the way her toes clicked as she let out a little sobbing gasp.

Then I let her go again.

"I quite enjoy that," I said. "It's... nice to have you in my mouth. It's... it's also making me very... aroused. Very... experimental. So... I mean... um... do you want me to lie down and... spread myself? So you can have me? I'd... I think I'd like that..."

"How about you let me... show you this, this first time?" she said. "As gently as I can. But first... do you trust me, Gwenhwyfar?"

I met her gaze.

"Yes," I said, softly. "You've never once hurt me in the years we've known one another. I trust you completely."

She reached out and cupped my cheek. "I'd never hurt you without permission, no. And... never in this intimate a way. Lie on your stomach. I know how much you like it that way. I'll... take it very slow."

Heart thumping, strangely nervous, I did what she said. I lay flat, head on my crossed arms.

I moaned as she put her hands onto my back.

"Relax," she breathed into my ear. "Relax, gorgeous. I know it's probably a bit scary. I'll make sure you love it."

"Okay..." I whimpered.

"Spread your legs again, lover."

And I did so, and I felt first one and then the other of her knees slip between mine.

She leaned forward, and I whimpered softly as her lovely breasts brushed my shoulders.

She touched her lips to my neck, nuzzling under my hair to find my skin.

I could feel the hard rod of her butting up against the cleft between my buttocks.

"Jenny," she breathed.

"Uh... huh..."

"Tell me to stop if this hurts at all."

She found my left hand, and knotted her fingers with mine. I closed my eyes, she shifted on me, I felt her erect member moving as she repositioned herself. The hot heat of her head nestled between my thighs, then nudged against my slick, aching lips.

I tensed, took a slow and shivery breath, preparing myself.

"Fuck, you're so wet," she moaned.

I opened my eyes, stared at the wall of my apartment as she fiddled and fumbled, positioning herself.

Then she slowly applied pressure and I felt myself... giving...

My jaw opened and locked.

It wasn't agonising at all. Not like... when...

This was something... else.

This was different, this was... amazing...

My entire body shook; I let out a strangled whimper as her head stretched and distended me.

"Oh... oh shit... oh shit..." I panted as my need ramped up at breakneck speed.

"Do you.. want me to stop..." Jezebel whimpered into my ear.

"No!" I wailed; I flailed behind me with my free right hand, found her hair and knotted my fingers into it as I pulled her hard down against me. I arched up instinctively, lifting my belly upwards, angling myself, and Jez moaned as she accepted my wordless invitation.

I felt her slip further into me. She snatched a breath, kissed me, eased back out, then thrust slowly but inexorably into me, and I gasped and writhed as I took more of her.

"You're... tight... Feathers..." she gasped. "Oh, oh fuck, you have no idea how good you feel..."

I couldn't answer. The sensation of her hard, throbbing penis part-buried in me was more than I could process. All my inhibitions disappeared in a heartbeat; I began to writhe and wriggle and tried to drive myself back upwards, desperately trying to take more of her into me.

"Jezebel, take me, take me," I moaned, "oh please, just, just fuck me, just fill me with that... just..."

She pulled back again, pushed in, and this time I felt the warm skin of her belly touch my bum. I moaned, loud and deep. One more pull, one more thrust, and the maddening slap of her belly and thighs against me, her rock-hard member buried deep in my aching, awakening body.

She paused, buried deep in me, and braced herself. I clenched my hand tightly on hers, knotted my other more tightly in her wonderful tresses.

"Why... why have you stopped..." I cried out plaintively, the end of my words running into a low moan of ecstasy as she slowly slid back out of me and then slammed herself in.

"You love my cock, you depraved little thing," she said. She sounded delighted by the discovery.

"It's... you're... oh... so good in me..." I managed.

"I'm going to do this to you often, I'm going to do this to you all the time," she breathed into my ear, and I nodded frantically, too overwhelmed to even find a single word.

She found and established a maddening rhythm. She'd pull back so her head nearly slid out, teasing and stretching my body around her bulging ridge, then slam herself back into me with that same ridiculous slap that drove the breath out of me each time with a unladylike grunt. Within three thrusts I knew I had found my new favourite thing, within five more I knew for sure that I was going to come.

It took twenty nine full strokes in all, each one more agonizing than the last. The final seven almost, almost required her to restrain me as I lost control and began to writhe and cry and beg for mercy, for release.

I let out a long shuddering moan as I came; two hard spasms and a run of lesser ones; coupled with frenzied and uncontrollable arching against her as my base needs took charge of my higher functions. She laughed, then bit down hard on the nape of my neck like some great cat and bore down on me with all her weight, crushing me to the bed. Her nipples were hard against the burning skin of my back; mine were erect and aching. I forced a hand down under me and found myself and began to stroke myself in the way she'd so delightedly taught me; she gasped as I spasmed and clamped on her again and again and again.

"I'm going to fuck you properly now, honey," she growled.

I moaned a reedy little exhausted affirmative, and my eyes rolled back into my head as she began to slam herself deep into me.

My throat was raw from the constant frantic gasps she was forcing me to take.

She was panting too, her musky sweat and scent filling the air around us.

A knot of fire was ablaze in my belly; my hips were shaking, thighs clenching randomly and spasmodically against her as she thrust and shoved and and laboured between my legs.

I could feel how wet I was, how slick she was, the ridges of her rock-hard member slipping and sliding past my fingers and in between the slender lips and downy hair that framed that most private part of me.

I'd never felt anything as good as having her in me, possessing me like this with her power, her beauty, her lust, making me feel part of something... special... even if just for this single, perfect moment...

"I... love..." I moaned, then cried out as a spasm rendered me incapable of finishing my ill-advised thought.

She clenched her hand on mine.

"Mine," she groaned. "You're mine."

She shifted, began to drive herself hard into me, tucking her face in against my ear, tongue and teeth finding my earlobe. I flailed under her, transfixed by her and the pleasure she was giving me, each distending thrust nudging me onwards, upwards...

She began to shiver, to whimper.

"Jen, Jen," she gasped, suddenly. "Jen, you are so amazing, oh, oh fuck, you are so amazing... Jen... I'm... I'm going to..."

And then she cried out, pushed hard against me, driving herself deep into me again and again, gasping, throbbing deep within me as she tried to bury herself as deep as she possibly could, clawing at my shoulders, shuddering belly ripping against my sweat-soaked bum.

And then my own final crashing orgasm, long hard constricting pulses on her that made her cry out and writhe as my body revelled in the feeling of her filling me in such a wonderful way.

She collapsed on top me, shaking as if she had a fever, the infinitesimal boundary between us slick with our sweat. Slowly, by delicious degrees, she softened; I moaned in disappointment as she whimpered and slipped out of me. A rush of hot fluid followed her and ran out over my hypersensitive little nub and fingers; the hot heady scent of sex topped with the faintest tang of sulphur surrounded us.

She slowly slid off me, and wrapped her arm around me; her semi-flaccid and rather sticky penis twitching and trailing moisture over the back of my thigh.

She nuzzled in and tucked her face in against me again, I turned my own and found her lips and slowly and languidly kissed her to thank her for the lovely gift she'd given us.

Then I reached out and wrapped my own arm around her and held her to me, nose to my nose, brow to my brow, cheek to my cheek, a little triangle of utter intimacy.

"Mine," she whispered, once more, and I stared breathlessly into the banked embers of her glorious eyes.

There was a strange ache in my chest.

And I had to fight the sudden urge to cry.

Days became weeks, weeks became months. Midwinter and Christmas and the new year Below came and went, and I guided and shepherded my souls day after day.

But now, there were added complications.

Because Caitlyn and I had struck up a weird kind of friendship.

And the guilt of keeping it from Jezebel was eating slowly away at me.

Every time I thought of telling my... well, whatever she was to me, I shied away.

It was too difficult.

So, like a coward, I hid.

Hid between her thighs, or underneath her, slick and panting on her as she rode me.

Or hid in coffee shops and libraries or under the spreading boughs of trees on my frequent walks with Caitlyn down below.

Caitlyn.

Precious, innocent, living Caitlyn.

Cool, in many ways. Damaged, strangely distant at times, almost manically present at others.

I'd sit and watch her, watch the way emotion flittered over her face, watch the way she'd doodle in her drawing pad, watch the way she'd shyly tuck her hair behind her ear when she worked out how intently I was watching her.

I've never been good at nuance, so I didn't know what I was doing.

Not even when she asked me if she could draw me.

It took some convincing; some deep-within fear warned me off.

But... I'd discovered that I was not strong enough to say no to her. Some shared pain, some echo of that first brief hug had snared me like quicksand, and every time I tried to escape I simply got more mired.

So I sat there, pinned like a butterfly to a page, then nodded a tight and nervous yes.

And watched as she captured my face with swift, angular strokes.

"I'm not that pretty," I ventured, once.

"Don't tell me what you are," she answered, soft and level, as she shaded the shadows around my eyes.

And so I held my tongue, and sat, and watched, spellbound, as I came to life under her gentle care.

And from there, my fall into foolishness was swift and irreversible.

Caitlyn would ask me to pose for her maybe once every couple of weeks; and soon enough it became a thing we did.

And as she drew me we'd talk - or rather, at first she'd talk, and I'd listen. I'd listen to the lonely little tales from her life; growing up as an only child, a long string of schools brought about by her father's habit of drinking and squabbling with the staff over real (or perceived) slights.

How she'd met Rhiannon in year nine, and kept in contact despite moving schools once again. How they'd plotted together and somehow wound up in freshers together at Cardiff.

Where Rhiannon had discovered just how much fun boys were.

And Caitlyn had worked out that she was in love with her best friend.

(She'd paused at that, her pencil crawling to a halt. I'd realised that she was fighting back the tears.)

And so time passed.

And I grew comfortable around her.

Comfortable enough to start to talk about my past, and some of the... harder things I'd had to do.

We'd taken to hugging - both when greeting and when saying goodbye.

I looked forward to my time with her.

It was private. Mine alone, no business of anyone else's.

I started visiting in the evenings; I'd sit on Caitlyn's bed and she'd sit on her stool, and we'd talk and drink tea and she'd draw me.

And somehow, somewhere, I grew bold enough to ask her draw a full-body portrait of me.

She was unsure at first.

But we talked it over.

And the next time I came to visit I'd dressed appropriately - in the outmoded linen frock I still sometimes liked to wear.

She made a noise, and put down the pencil.

"Are you okay?" I asked from my perch on her bed.

"No. Hand's cramping. The folds of that dress are vexing me."

"Oh. Sorry. I should have..."

"You look perfect in it," she added. "It's a great look for you. It's just a complete arsehole to draw. It's why we often draw or paint nudes. Less work. Fabric is hard"

"I suspect you're giving away trades secrets."

She glanced up at me, amused. "Maybe I am."

I watched her, noting how hard she was pressing on her hands.

"Cait?"

"Yeah," she muttered, distractedly.

"I could always... you know."

"What?"

"I could always be nude, you know."

She paused for quite a while, then coughed.

"I'm not going to deny that it wouldn't be a whole lot easier. But... Jenny... are you sure you're comfortable with that?"

"Yeah," I answered, softly. "I'm... fairly comfortable with my body, these days."

I sat up, and started to undo the line of buttons that ran from my breasts to roughly mid-navel. I peeled one shoulder off, then the second, and slipped my arms out of the sleeves. I stood, and let the dress fall to the floor.

Caitlyn sat, staring at me, mouth open. Then she seemed to realise what she was doing.

"Sorry," she stammered. "You're... you're just so elegant..."

I flushed.

"There are many more prettier angels up there," I whispered, suddenly shy. "Demons, too," I added, thinking guiltily of Jezebel and her lovely curves.

I ducked my head and stared at the floor as I reached behind myself to trip the clasp of my plain white cotton bra.

I let it fall to the floor.

"Shit," she whispered.

"What?"

I glanced up at her.

Her face was flaming red.

"Sorry, sorry," she said, clearly flustered. "I'm... I'm being really unprofessional. It's just... wow. Wow, Jenny, you're so... oh God, you're so gorgeous."

I smiled at that, warmed through-and-through, and slowly slid my muted pink underwear down my legs.

"There," I said, shyly. "All done. Um... how do you want me to... pose?"

"Um..." she said, seemingly as shy. She was looking everywhere but at me. "How... how do you want me to draw you?"

"I... guess I could... recline a bit, or something?"