Impact 06: of Annunciation

She pushes her lips against my neck, I feel them open, and her tongue against my skin.

Her finger pushes deep. I am wet and open as she slides in and out, moves it over me, and turns her hand. She's exploring and I open my leg further, turning towards her, moving onto my back as she finds my clit with her thumb and begins to circle. Her free fingertips are slippery and soft. I've soaked our flesh.

My stomach seizes as her mouth moves down to my chest, I reach up with both hands and push them into Claire's hair, holding her there, offering my breasts to her. My eyes are squeezed shut as her lips find my nipple and begin to suck.

Loud wet chugging accompanying the pumping of her finger. I want to scream, it feels so good. I open my eyes to look. The corners of her mouth are curled in a smile as she nurses. Part of me can't believe what's happening; wants to tell her. But instead I throw my head back and toss it back and forth, grinding my teeth, trying to hold back the pressure building in my chest. I can't.

"Oh, Jesus GOD Claire!" I call loudly, shocking myself. I've never been demonstrative during sex, something Danny complained about. He called me a "cold fish" - but did he ever suck my nipples like this? Did he ever slobber and lick and bite?

'Was he ever this beautiful?' I think, looking down on her, making myself laugh, her laughing with me, my nipple wet against her lips.

My whole world is Claire's mouth, loose and wet, then tight, drawing me almost painfully before going slack again, her flat tongue dragging wetly, slack lips dribbling and kissing and then pursing tight to suck; a great chugging draw.

My throat is tight, my ribs clenched. I'm forcing myself to be silent. I think of Claire calling out; of the beautiful sounds she makes. I think of how happy she was when I came calling her name... and feel my throat open for her.

"Ohhhhgod... CLAIRE YES! YES! Oh GOD yes!"

Raising herself up and supporting herself on her elbow Claire pushes her free hand under my neck and grips me tight. She tips my head forward forcing me to meet her eyes, to watch her suck my nipple. Her lips shined with saliva as her cheeks draw in and out, pulling hard at me.

"ieeyAAAH!" I whine. "Mmmmmnnn! Oh, Claire! Oh yesss, like that. Please, Claire, AHHHH... DON'T STOP!"

Her finger is fucking me faster and faster, the heel of her hand is bearing down on my clit. Smearing it as she pumps in and out of me.

"Yes! Yes! YES! OhGodYes! Aaaaahh AH ah..." The sounds are ripped from me, I can't stop myself.

"AH! AH! AH!"

Claire is staring into my eyes as she sucks. Her eyes glitter, challenging me, goading me on.

"OHGODOHGODOHGODOHCLAIREYES," I scream, my voice rising in pitch and volume as she continues.

My hips rolling to meet her hand, pushing, grinding. I moan loudly into the darkness, begging.

"ohpleassssegod...!"

"Cum for me Young Sarah," she husks.

"EyHa!"

The cry is almost like a hiccup, I can't stop it.

"EyHa!"

"EyHa!"

"EyHA!"

I sound like a mad woman.

"Now!" She commands. "I want you to cum in my hand!"

"OH GOD PLEASE!" I explode, shocking myself with both my obedience and my outburst. "OH CLAIRE YESPLEASE! OHGODCLAIRE!"

My left fist is in her hair, smashing her to my breast, my right is clutching at her hand, pushing her finger deeper, pressing her palm harder. She's sucking again. I'm grinding against her. Her eyes are open and bright and hungry, watching me, she is eating me with her eyes as I cum.

"EEEEEEEEeeeee!"

Teeth bared and clenching my stomach so tight it cramps, my eyes pinch close and I shudder. Forcing my belly to unwind, slumping in her grip, trying to catch my breath, to regain myself. When I open my eyes she's still watching me, her hand still tight on the back of my neck, her other hand petting my belly.

"Ah très bien Sarah!" she whispers.

"I'm sorry... I was too loud," I pant. "I don't... know what happened, I didn't..."

"No, it was too wonderful. Please don't feel sorry. I love making you cum, I love hearing you scream. You sound wonderful, marvelous - you are so beautiful," she gushes. "...But really, I'm quite certain you could be heard on the street."

She's laughing and smiling, celebrating my orgasm. I'm already too flush to show my embarrassment, but Claire has none. She holds me, petting and cooing her approval. I wish I could stay like this forever, her hand still tight on the back of my neck, her other hand petting my belly. When I open my eyes again she's still watching me

"What do lesbians do with U-Hauls? I asked her, my voice sounds dreamy and sing-song.

"I don't know, whatdo lesbians do with U-Hauls?"

"No, it was a real question..."

She is smiling and even laughing a little, but looks confused. Or is that dismay? I feel a chill in my guts; wish I hadn't said it, that I could take it back. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe she's just waiting for me to explain. But maybe I've spoken out of turn, named what's not being said when we pretend nothing is happening.

My stomach churns. I want her to forget I ever asked. I want to have never asked. I lick my lips, wetting them, leaving them parted so she can see my tongue, watching her eyes, watch her attention shift to my lips, my mouth, the tip of my tongue, watch her expression shift, biting her bottom lip. Her eyes are shining.

'I can make her forget.'

I feel myself mirroring her expression in sympathy, reflecting her need back at her.

Our gaze is locked as I shift on my side and begin pushing my hips down the bed, pulling at her sides, moving her up. I guide her hand from my stomach to my mouth, licking and sucking her fingers clean before pressing them into my hair. Her eyes glitter as my mouth comes even with hers. Her lips are parted, and she is breathing fast. I give her a quick kiss as we pass each other on the bed - her moving up, me moving down. My heart is thundering as her fingers move through my hair, nails exploring my scalp, and then she does what I want, her palm begins to push me.

'Enough fucking around,' I think as my tongue and lips leaving a trail of saliva down her belly.

I open my mouth wide, my flatten tongue covering my bottom lip stretching for my chin as she guides my face between her spreading thighs. I am drooling and passive against her clit.

She pushes up with her hips rolling them against the soft giving furnace of my tongue. My lips seal over hers and my thin cool saliva mixes with the pungent mucus of her cunt. The first taste is musky and strong, but behind it is a flood. Claire is wet for me. She's been waiting a long time for this, for me. I feel a new burst of energy. I point my tongue and push into her open lips. Looking up at her I feel a thrill of joy. She is looking back at me with a lop-sided grin of pure satisfaction on her face.

I lick and suck, while she looks on, rapt but at ease. She's enjoying this, but not yet swept up in it. I watch as her grin disappears, as her expression grows more and more intense, her eyes cloud and go distant.

"Oh Sarah," she murmurs. " I never imagined..."

But Claire is no longer watching me, she is lost in her own pleasure. And I feel myself slipping into a comfortable place in myself.

Is it because this was my old role? Have I gone from being for Danny's cock sucker to being Claire's... cunt licker? I whored myself to him, now I'm her whore. Is that what I want, to be the vessel for her pleasure the way I was his?

'Cum dumpster,' I remember, with shame. He had said it on the phone to a friend, didn't know I could hear.

But that was how I kept Danny from getting mad, from casting me off. And now here I am licking Claire's cunt. I think of my mother's face the night I came home after sucking Danny off the first time, her outraged demand to know what I had done to upset him.

'What would she say if she knew?' I wonder.

But rather than try and imagine that I suck and lick with greater need. I don't care about being a whore, or what my mother thinks. I am frantic to give Claire what she wants; to feel her orgasm, to taste her cum. I'm not whoring myself to get something I want, I realize. THIS is what I want. I want to be Claire's whore.

I am making hungry groaning sounds as I lick her over and over. My tongue and bottom lip smearing dumbly upwards again and again. I must look disgusting.

I don't care. Picturing how she looked at me as she served me dinner, the sound of her singing as I soaked in her bath. I love being Claire's whore. If that's all I am, if being her whore makes me disgusting, but pleases her. I don't care.

My mouth and tongue hurt but Claire is begging to hump and buck. I push myself to speed up, licking harder, and feel a spike of pleasure as Claire fist tightens painfully. She's losing control.

Gripping me by the hair she grinds her wet cunt against my face. My cheeks and chin, and even my nose, are smeared with her cum. I latch onto her clit, sucking her into my mouth and battering her with my tongue.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuuuCKKK!"

Cum is flooding my mouth and running down my chin.

Claire drops her ass back to the bed. She's lying in a puddle of my saliva and her cum, growling softly while I lap at her, collecting every last drop of cum I can. But I feel my eyes already heavy, closing.

I am humming into her as I feel myself slipping into sleep, the words bloom in my mind as the tune vibrates through her flesh.

Tu es le verre, je suis le vin.

*For those of you rereading these stories this is for you: on 05/22/23 I uploaded my final edit version of this story for moderation. This version is almost twice as long as the original chapter, there is some new action tucked between the old, but most of it is inside of Sarah's head - so much neurosis!

** Claire's Mix:

Senegal Fast Food, Amadou and Mariam, Manu Chow

Lo Boob Oscillator, Stereolab

Rose Roude, St Germain

All I Need, Air

It's Time To Wake Up, Le Femme

Avril 14, Richard James, Katia, Matielle Labèque

Crazy In Love, Maxence Cyrin

And I Love her, Brad Mehldou

Something She Has To Do, Philip Glass

Bonnie and Clyde, Bridgitte Bardot and Serge Gainsbourg

La toi du moi, Carla Bruni

Baby Love, MC Solaar

Nantes, Beirut

M'Bife, Amadou and Mariam

Je t'aime moi non plus,

Serge Gainsbourg, Jane Birkin