Intimacy Pt. 07

Finally, Zari's tongue snaked out and wrapped itself around Eleanor's nipple like a python encircling its prey. The sensation was heightened by the ostrich feather from Zari's headband, which brushed Eleanor's face. Instinctively, Eleanor slid a hand under her panties and into her pussy. Not unexpectedly, it accepted her fingers with ease and alacrity.

'Aw, fuck!' Eleanor cried, the movement of her hand not unseen by Zari, who allowed her what she might have, in other circumstances, with other women, considered an impertinence.

So successfully was her seduction of this nubile young woman going that Zari didn't change anything. If the girl wanted to finger-fuck herself to an early orgasm, then good luck to her! Somehow, Eleanor seemed to be thinking along similar lines, as she slowed down the action of her fingers, then withdrew her hand entirely, refocusing her attention on the black siren by putting her arms around her. Zari responded to Eleanor's new-found self-discipline by pushing her onto the bed. In one easy movement, she had her dress off, revealing a pair of the skimpiest pink T-string thongs.

Zari whistled in appreciation: this girl had left no stone unturned in terms of her preparation for this party. Much as she was turned on by the thongs and what lay beyond them, Zari was old enough and experienced enough to know that the greatest pleasure lay along the path of patience, so she returned to Eleanor's tits, which she found bewitching and which she had scarcely started to work on.

She thought about taking off her own long necklace, which was clacking about and generally getting in the way, but she became turned on beyond measure at the thought of lining up those beads, even as she tongued those magnificent nipples, on the flimsy material that barely covered the box which must now be dripping with juices and desperate to receive her expert tongue.

Determined to retain some measure of self-control, Eleanor placed her hands on either side of Zari's face as she went back to work on her breasts. She found she was wearing chunky gold hoop earrings, which had hitherto been concealed by her bob. Unlike her gold-coloured choker, which was clearly a part of the outfit she had bought for the party, these were anything but tacky and must have cost somebody a king's ransom. As if it was what she needed right now, Eleanor got even more turned on as she thought about the lover who had given these as a gift to Zari for services rendered.

Rather than languidly encircling Eleanor's nipples, Zari had decided that it was time to markedly up the tempo. She wanted to make this girl come like she had never come before, and then she wanted the girl to make her come. Nice and slow, if possible: she would just have to wait and see how skilful this young Englishwoman was in the ways of Sapphic lovemaking. The evidence thus far suggested she would be up for the task.

Unable to get the vision of the pink thongs out of her mind, Zari retraced the route already taken by Eleanor's fingers, as her own slimmer fingers skipped over the girl's flat stomach, raced through a carefully trimmed bush and slid effortlessly down a slick canal into a lake of molten desire. Eleanor yelled out as the fingers invaded her - her passions sent into overdrive by the combined assault on breasts and pussy.

Sensing that Eleanor would not be able to hold out much longer under this dual onslaught, Zari lacerated the girl's nipples with her tongue, even as she drove first two, then three, fingers in and out of her cunt. Eleanor managed to hold out for longer than either of them imagined, but when Zari tugged down the thongs and replaced her fingers with the beads, she underwent a crippling orgasm. Fortunately, the music was still playing loudly below; otherwise, her cries would have been heard throughout the house.

NINETEEN

While Eleanor might have felt in a blissful state - ready to take some time out, relax, have a drink - Zari's state was that of a different kind of animal altogether. She needed Eleanor to bring her off; she needed her to bring her off good; and she needed her to bring her off tout fucking suite.

She regarded the tall form of the Englishwoman splayed out on the bed among the rose petals in the candlelight and her heart softened. Maybe she could find a way to get her to satisfy her which didn't involved compulsion. One way, she thought, would be to get Eleanor to undress her; once she saw the delicacies on offer, surely she wouldn't be able to resist.

Without further ado, she lay down on her elbow next to the naked woman and asked her to take off her headband - something she was perfectly capable of doing herself. Eleanor lazily complied, tossing the item onto the far side of the bed and lying back down immediately, as if her work were done. Deciding she needed to take this girl in hand, Zari straddled her and asked her to take off her necklace, which was still sticky in places with her love juices. If she hadn't already got the point, Eleanor did so now. Zari wanted to be ritually unclothed as a preliminary to being made love to. Eleanor really wished she could have a nap, or at least a ten-minute time-out, but she did sort of owe it to the American.

'What does Zari mean?' she asked on a whim.

'It's Persian,' Zari replied. 'It means "golden".'

Eleanor looked at Zari's eye shadow - so close to her now - and at her shimmering gold outfit, and told her that the black of the beads was indeed impeding the overall effect of her costume.

'It does have to go, doesn't it?' she added softly.

As she lifted it over Zari's head with both hands, she made a point of dragging her knuckles over the black girl's breasts, eliciting the faintest whimper.

'I'll soon have you doing better than that,' thought Eleanor, who had moved very rapidly from a state of lethargy to one of lustfulness.

Having unhooked the choker and tossed it over with the headband, she reached round to the nape of Zari's neck to unzip her, but failed to locate the mechanism.

'It's on the side,' said Zari, unable to control the slight tremor in her voice, which was picked up by Eleanor.

'This black miss thinks she's the bee's knees,' thought Eleanor, using both hands to draw the zipper down without snagging it in the flimsy material. 'She needs to be taken down a peg or two.'

Whatever plans Eleanor might have been hatching for Zari were put on hold once she beheld her breasts. They were phenomenal, shaped like cantaloupes. The most outstanding feature were the nipples, even though they weren't especially prominent. The way they pointed upwards fascinated and aroused Eleanor at one and the same time. The areolas on which they sat were super cute too - probably smaller than a half dollar coin.

Once she had got the tight little dress off, Eleanor was in for another surprise. Zari was wearing super sexy underwear: gold panties with a metallic sheen, which were slung so low from near the hips that they possessed their own cleavage.

'Those can definitely stay on,' Eleanor thought, 'while I am occupied with this luscious beauty's tits.'

First things first, though. Eleanor wanted to kiss this woman again and savour once more her unique taste. The lipstick on Zari's lips was a little smudged after all the action they had seen, and Eleanor imagined her own lips must be showing similar wear and tear by now. Eleanor straddled Zari and moved in for the kiss. For good measure - and to let her know who was now the boss - she held her arms out horizontally from her body, as if she was being crucified.

That exquisite taste was something Eleanor couldn't get enough of, as she invaded the black girl's mouth and explored every cavity. Simultaneously, she began to grind her pussy against Zari's mound, imagining the tightly curled black hairs and the delicacies waiting for her beneath them.

In normal circumstances, Eleanor would have lingered on the kiss, but the knowledge that those tits were jutting out with a pride verging on arrogance meant these were anything but normal circumstances. Notwithstanding her impatience, Eleanor still managed to plant kisses on the black girl's cute ears and on her throat before she continued her journey southwards towards her Shangri-La.

And what a paradise it proved to be, a place where you could find shelter in cool mountain valleys and look out from lofty peaks onto tranquil pastures below.

'But enough of this sightseeing!' thought Eleanor. 'I came here for a purpose.'

And that purpose involved enjoying the special texture of the dark skin, and then giving that beautiful skin some enjoyment that it would never forget. Running her fingers over Zari's compact orbs, Eleanor marvelled at the spring they possessed. The skin was, she felt, a tad oilier than her own, but in a positive way. She could no longer wait to taste it.

She went at it like the scientist she was, working her way in in concentric circles. The older woman tried to remain in control (which pleased and amused Eleanor): telling her partner that she was doing a good job and doing her best not to show any sign of arousal. Eleanor laughed when she thought of Kiera, Linda, Caroline and the others who had tried to play it cool, and the state they had ended up in. But Eleanor was willing to play along - for now - even interrupting her work to thank Zari for her words of encouragement.

If she was honest with herself, Eleanor was a bit disappointed when she reached the end of her journey. She had secretly been hoping that the nipple would have grown while she was approaching it; that she had somehow mistaken its dimensions first time round and she would be rewarded with a generously proportioned nub to work on. Not a bit of it! If anything, it looked even more demure than it had done when she first set eyes on it. The journey made in its honour from the extremities had done absolutely nothing for it. Maybe it was made in the image of its owner, and Zari really was as cool as she wished to portray herself as being.

There was only one thing for it and that was to see if it would respond to stimuli. Eleanor rubbed it gently with her finger and was unable to discern any immediate effect. She decided to add another finger to the mix and toggled between the two of them, occasionally catching the bud in a kind of pincer movement. Still nothing by way of swelling, but what Eleanor did pick up was significant indeed. The black girl was clearly trying to stifle a moan.

'Ha!' thought Eleanor. 'If the little minx enjoys my fingers, just think how she'll react when she comes under the influence of my tongue!'

Eleanor, though, was in no mood to hurry. She'd make this sexual predator beg her if it was the last thing she did. She continued to knead her nipples with her fingers, blowing on them from time to time, biding her time. Without moving her fingers from Zari's breast, Eleanor moved in to kiss her once again. God! she couldn't get enough of that mouth. It was like a frigging herb garden! Hints of rose and lavender and fuck knows what!

Zari moved her hands onto Eleanor's buttocks, as she dealt in her own way with the growing arousal she was feeling. Eleanor wasn't sure how she felt about this, but gave Zari the benefit of the doubt, even as she let her hand wander from the girl's perfect tit to her abdomen. She obviously worked out. But, equally obviously, she was fighting a losing battle against her desire to stay, if not in charge of the encounter, then at least, as it were, on top of things.

Eleanor could sense Zari willing her to slide her hand under those lewd panties and into her cunt. It was obvious from the way she was holding her breath and trying to create a little gap between waistband and flesh. Everything was going according to plan, and Eleanor wouldn't let herself forget that, according to that plan, she was going to make this slut wait until she (Eleanor) was ready to fuck her. So, back it was to her breasts (which Eleanor was in danger of becoming fixated with - why couldn't she have a pair like this?), but this time she was going to use her tongue. And - she was going to bring her to orgasm. Fuck! she might even come herself, if the woman had the presence of mind to drive her fingers into her cunt, or, god forbid! her asshole.

TWENTY

When Eleanor's tongue made landfall on Zari's knockout breasts, this time she went straight for the jugular - those perky but recalcitrant nipples. Suddenly she wished she had a stud in her tongue. That would surely help unlock the deep wells of desire which she knew were down there somewhere - like one of those vast underground reservoirs in the Sahara desert. She worked her tongue so hard on those damned buds that she was worried she might strain it.

'Fancy that,' she thought. 'Pulling a muscle in my tongue!'

It wasn't exactly the case that Zari was unmoved by her efforts, but she wasn't exactly writhing around or begging for mercy or anything like that.

'But what then was she doing?' Eleanor asked herself, almost ready to jack it in and move to the fractious girl's cunt.

Basically, she was running her hands through her hair and telling her what a good job she was doing. Eleanor became so incensed when she reflected on what she took to be such condescension that she tweaked the nipple in anger. She was on the point of apologising to Zari for her excessive use of force when she heard the sound of animalistic growling coming from the bed. Suddenly, Eleanor remembered the moan that the black woman had been unable to suppress when she had caught her nipple in a pincer movement with her fingers. This woman clearly liked it rough. She wanted to be mauled.

Eleanor was onto her like a panther. She kept her nails long enough to inflict the kind of pain this woman clearly relished. Eleanor quickly intuited it wasn't pain itself that she craved but the threat of pain, the promise of pain. Eleanor also fancied (rightly or wrongly - she didn't really care) that she would welcome a bit of verbal abuse. God, was she ready to give her some of that!

'So you think you can have any woman you want, any time you want?' she asked, even as she dug a nail into the once bashful nipple, which had already doubled in size.

Zari struggled under the muscular Englishwoman as if she wanted to get off the bed. But Eleanor wasn't fooled by her play-acting any more. She thought of withdrawing from her and sitting on the other end of the bed, but she didn't because she knew Zari didn't want her to do that. Hell! She didn't want to do that. They had created their little stage on this bed and there was going to be no breaking through of the fourth wall until the drama had played out to its climax.

'You dress like a tart and act like a tart!' Eleanor continued, coming down on the nipple she had just gouged and biting into it with her teeth.

'Oh my god!' cried Zari. 'Don't!'

'You mean "Don't stop!", don't you?' Eleanor said.

'Fuck you!' Zari shot back, even as she offered her other breast to Eleanor to be ravaged.

'Strutting around with your perfect breasts and perfect body, when all you really want is someone to treat you like the harlot you really are!'

Eleanor, realising that she had worked herself into such a frenzy that she was in danger of losing control, reined herself in and tried her luck with a long sweeping motion of her tongue over the other nipple.

'Oh, god, yeah!' Zari breathed.

The dam had finally burst, or the archaeologist had finally found that huge fucking subterranean reservoir in the middle of the desert, or whatever! Eleanor could now do whatever she wanted and this little minx would be like a puppet on a string. She was her plaything, and she could use her and put her back in the place she had found her, or she could use her and put her out for the trash collectors to carry off.

It was so fucking easy now. Eleanor withdrew from her tits altogether and smiled down at her prey. It wasn't a particularly pleasant smile, either. It seemed to be saying, 'I am in total control and if you bug me in any way I will bugger off, and you won't see me again, and you won't get the bloody orgasms you crave so badly!'

Zari seemed to understand all this, and Eleanor was right - her desire to be brought off by this obnoxious Englishwoman was more powerful than any other emotion she was currently feeling.

'Not so cocky now, are we?' Eleanor crowed.

Zari lay still and silent on the bed, awaiting her fate. Eleanor had decided the black woman would make a good instrument. Slapping each of her boobs in turn, she went at it as if she was playing the bongo drums. She wasn't so caught up in her performance that she missed the woman opening her legs wider in an attempt to draw the percussionist's attention to another instrument she could use.

'Slut!' Eleanor spat out, as she brought the palm of her hand down on Zari's chevron-shaped panties, causing the woman to cry out wantonly.

Despite the fun she was having, Eleanor sensed the time was ripe to strike and put the woman out of her misery. That was of course merely a figure of speech. This woman was already having the time of her life; Eleanor just wanted to make sure she went out with a bang.

A minute or two more of drumming gave way to vigorous tongue-lashing of the nipples, which was in turn complemented by the entry of one of Eleanor's fingers into Zari's dripping gash.

'Orgasm number one!' Eleanor said to herself, as she started to pump the black girl, whose breath was coming in short gasps.

Roaring like a lion, she duly obliged, close to bouncing herself off the bed. Giving Zari no time to recover, Eleanor ripped the lewd underwear off and, taking barely a moment to appreciate the wiry triangle she had been so taken with not half an hour before, rammed her tongue up her cunt.

The taste was indescribable - more fragrant still than her mouth. Despite all her best intentions, Eleanor slowed her pace down so she could savour the smorgasbord of flavours. The relaxation in pace provided Zari with the window she needed to make a suggestion to Eleanor. Why didn't they finish the night off with a sixty-nine?

Eleanor didn't need time to think the idea over. In one lithe movement, her pussy was over Zari's mouth, while she was already back feasting on the black woman's beautiful pink kitty. She shuddered when she felt Zari's tongue invade her, and knew that satisfaction wasn't far away. It wouldn't do, though, to come before she had finished Zari off. Perhaps they could even come together?

Ramping up her work on Zari's pussy, Eleanor knew the black woman was close to coming. From the way her own body was responding to Zari's tongue-work, she knew she too wasn't far away. In the end, it was Zari who lit the touchpaper, setting off a round of explosions, which finally triggered the black girl's own orgasm number two. It had, as the saying goes, been a night to remember.