Impact 14: of The Gaze

"I did everything I wanted," I promise, kissing her. "The things I want to do are with you."

Claire's fingertips are light on me, still they drag against my skin in the humid still air. She pushes me lightly, guiding me over so I am on my back. Our kiss is deepening but remains slow and gentle; languid in the heat. She holds herself above me, the charm is hanging between us, bumping the underside of my jaw as we kiss, dragging against my skin. Her nipples dangling, from time to time touching me the way the heart and her fingertips are, the humidity and heat making them stick.

Her hand, which has been moving aimlessly, almost tickling, finally comes to rest, cupping my breast from below. Her grip is like her kiss, slow and gentle; pulsing softly.

Kissing me that way, a very long time, our mouths grow cool. Our saliva is thin like water, it fills my mouth and I have to swallow it. We taste sweet and bitter - mint and port. My body starts to twist and arch, my legs spreading wide, moving my thighs away from the wet heat radiating from my core.

"Mmmnnnnmm..."

When I start to moan she pulls away, her face hovering over mine, studying me. I can't stop moaning... whining really. It's a high pitched sound that seems to come from my abdominal floor; thin and sharp, like a silver wire.

"youcanagain..." she whispers, the words are thick, their edges lost - her tongue, too wet, her lips swollen and loose.

Claire's hand still pulses, slower than my heart, which itself seems to beat at a half-speed, torpid in the heat. Holding my gaze Claire begins to shift her mouth away from mine. She is watching me carefully, as if gauging my reaction as she moves over me, down the bed. My moaning isn't loud, but seeing her shift it becomes more insistent, as if the wire is being stretched at the impossibly slow pace of her pulsing hand.

"eyyyyyYAAhhhh..."

Her sweaty palms move with a wet ease against my skin now. We are a creature of the depths, our pale parts sliding and pumping in a thin hot brine of our own making.

"aaahhhSssss"

Sweat or drool drips from Claire's lips. They are parted and loose, seem to hang away from her teeth as she lowers them to my nipple, draping my flesh with hers. She looks up at me through her lashes, eyes hooded. I feel her tongue begin to move like a flacid pendulum, guided by gravity, hanging from the swaying dome of her skull.

"aaaGihhhhH..."

Claire's head hangs there over my breast, making tiny movements, pushed by heat, tethered by her lips and tongue, the pearly smooth edges of her teeth.

"cLaaaiRhhhh..."

Her hand is slowly compressing my breast more and more, squeezing it upwards, pushing my nipple into her mouth, forcing her jaw open, as her head begins to droop and her eyes disappear behind her brow.

"essss..."

I've been passive, my arms waving at my sides listlessly the geological slowness of a river carving away at a mud flat. Peeling them off the floodplain of my sheets feels almost Herculean, but then they begin to rise as if the heat is pushing them up. Claire's scalp is damp in my hands, hair is plastered to her brow and cheeks.

"gd..."

Her suck when it comes is like the tide. I feel her lips make the seal but her drawing me in is so gradual, it's only the waning, when it comes, that allows me to feel her power. She is drawing steady and smooth, but pulling me deep.

"aghhh... Claire... I'm going to cum," I breathe. "Just this..."

Both her hands are on me now, squeezing and pulling at my breasts. She's climbed over my leg and is rubbing herself against my thigh. I stiffen my leg for her, enjoying the wet movement of her open sex against my skin. Her cunt pumps with the same smooth suck of her mouth, her squeezing hands. Claire has attached herself to me, is feeding on me.

She's nursing loudly, her lips smacking and blubbering against me. Her tongue makes prehensile curls around my nipples, pulling at it. Her cunt is making tiny slurping sounds. My thigh is slick with her thick cum and my thin running sweat, my whole breast is wet with her saliva. She is so soft against me, so slow, her draw is easy but so powerful.

I'm not sure how long she has been sucking and humping. Has it been an hour? Ten minutes? I feel dazed by the heat, hypnotized by the wet pulsing of her sucking and squeezing and grinding. When my climax rises through me it's a dome as big as the earth, a hot subterranean sea that pushes up through me displacing thought with surges of blood and sliding flesh. I feel my waters break and flood the sheets, spraying our thighs. I don't call out, instead I let out a long endlessly deep breath, and gasp, surfacing from those great depths.

Heat is boiling out of me, I am drenched with sweat and cum, slack with pleasure.

"That was a big one," she whispers.

She is looking down on me, still rubbing herself against my thigh, we are both wonderfully slippery and smooth. Her forehead and cheeks and upper lip glisten with tiny beads of sweat. Her nose is dripping. Her lips and chin are coated with saliva.

Taking hold of her hips, I let my arms follow her movements as she rubs herself up and down my leg. She is watching me, her eyes hooded with pleasure.

I think again of watching Rebekah licking Ali's cunt, how desperately she worked to make the younger woman cum. I remember what it felt like to take Ali by the hair and bend her neck until her face was pressed against Rebekah's cunt, holding her there until she put out her tongue and began to lick and suck Rebekah off. I had cum repeatedly watching them, the way Ali had used Rebekah, and then, when she had finally eaten Rebekah out. They were lovers in that moment. I wonder what Helen thinks of us when she watches Claire and I fuck. Does she think of Claire and I as lovers?

'Will Claire's mother picture me as her lover, between her legs, eating her out?' I wonder. 'Will her friends imagine me that way, her lover straddling her face, holding her by the hair?'

I push my tongue around my mouth, to separate my cheeks from my teeth, smack and purse my lips, working to regain my voice.

"asyourlover?" I croak. My tongue is thick and inarticulate, my lips are loose and soft, but my arms feel strong again, my torso flexes. I am moving my body, shifting against her, gripping and rearranging our limbs.

"My lover?" Claire asks, as my thigh slides deeper between hers.

"To the wedding," I husk, the mucus is my throat choking me, but I see her understand.

"YesSs," she promises, the word is drawn out as I pull her hips down and twist my body away so we are interlocked. The folds and creases of our labia make gentle wet adjustments as they slip and slide into place, forming and breaking wet seals. The intimacy of the sensation is breathtaking. I gulp for air as we slide against each other, seeking each other, feeling each other.

"Am I your girlfriend?" I gasp, my mouth is full of saliva. We are rolling our hips, twisting and exploring with the cadence of gentle lapping, as if we are half submerged. Claire looks surprised and confused by my question.

"My girlfriend?"

"Yes!" I hiss, lifting my ass off the mattress and bearing down on her from above. "THAT- that's what I want."

"Yesssss, ohhh yesss..." she gasps, leaning back and shifting up against me. I can feel the petals of my inner labia meeting hers, slick and wet, almost like mouths kissing. She bares her teeth and her eyes shine wide, overwhelmed by the sensation.

"AHmnn!" she cries, stretching her neck and swallowing hard. I am working my hips in tiny circles, trying to find her clit with mine.

"If you want it," she whines, her hips making fractional shifts until I go still. I feel the pearl of her clitoris nestling mine. Careful not to lose contact, she draws her head forward, as if she's straining to be closer to me.

"I want it..." she gasps, "with all my heart."

"Is it silly?" I ask, drooling a bit. My hands are wet with our sweat, slippery against her skin, but I'm able to hold my cunt tight against hers, my clit compressing hers.

"No SarAH! ...nothing you want... is... silly."

"I want to be your girlfriend, Claire," I tell her, holding my hand out for her to take in hers. She rises up on her elbow and reaches for me. Each of us is gripping the base of the other's thumb. She bares her teeth as we roll and rub against each other this way, both of us pulling for leverage. Her clit grinding against my pubic bone, mine against hers.

"I love you Sarah, I want everyone to see, everyone toknow."

"I want to go to your friend's wedding," I tell her, curling my arm back towards my breast, pulling her tight against me. I can see the effect in her expression. She's so close.

"Yesss," she hisses.

"...in front of your family, in front of everyone"

"Please, Sarah!"

"I want everyone to know that I love you, Claire, that I'm your girlfriend."

"I want them all to see, Sarah!"

I am upright, looking down on her, stranding her inner thigh. Her other leg is straight in the air, I am rubbing my breast against her calf and kissing the sole on her foot, licking between her toes as I roll my hips across her open cunt, feeling the stony shape of her clitoris inside my pussy. She is staring up at me, her eyes wide and feverish as she cums under me.

"OH YES SARAH! YES!!! PEASE YES!!!"

I'm certain my neighbors hear that.

Despite the heat we are intertwined, as close as our bodies can possibly be, as much skin-to-skin contact as is humanly possible. I can feel the sweat trapped between us pooling and trickling. Her hand is near our chins, pinching the little locket.

"No one has ever looked at me the way you look at me," she whispers. Her voice sounds a little strained. "I have never looked at anyone the way I look at you."

I think of coming up behind her and Kelly looking at pictures. Kelly had been showing her a picture of the family at Niagara Falls, dad leaning on his crutch, mom hugging Wes and Kelly. I'm not in that picture because I'd taken it. Kelly was telling Claire something about what she remembered about that day, what she'd eaten.

But Claire was holding a picture of dad and me when I was seven or eight. It was taken in the park with the rocket ship slide, near the old house. I'm in a little dress, my front teeth missing. It was a picture from before the stroke. In it dad looked happy and strong, looking into the camera, almost like he was surprised.

"So handsome," she had said, touching the glass. She was holding her finger near his face, pointing at him, at his eyes. The photograph captures the startling blue of his eyes.

"You have his eyes," she had said, shocking me. "The same pale blue - the same fierce gaze."