Moira

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LaRascasse
LaRascasse
1,126 Followers

"You don't want to go now."

She blinked at looked to her immediate right. A woman sat at the table, staring straight into her glass. Without even turning her head, she went on.

"You'll miss Lez Zeppelin if you leave now," the stranger went on. "I know for a fact they're really good."

"I wasn't going to leave right now," Moira defended weakly.

The stranger finally turned to look at her.

"Right, so you always pay for your drinks when you're just getting started?"

The stranger drained her tequila sunrise in one gulp. She cringed and let the burn in her throat subside.

"You're not a regular here," she said calmly, fixing her expensive cufflinks. "I know most of the regulars in this place."

"I really think I should go now," Moira said, clutching her bag. The stranger shrugged and shook her hair back.

"Suit yourself, but you won't get laid then."

"Excuse me," replied Moira, taken aback.

"It's pretty obvious - you haven't come here with anybody," the stranger casually said. "You've been eyeing the crowd for the past fifteen minutes, trying to get up the nerve to chat someone up. You're out of your league, by the way."

The bartender poured her another helping of tequila. She indicated one more for Moira and ushered her to sit down.

"Will I do?"

Moira looked like a deer in the headlights. The stranger peered at her intently, with a disdainful smile etched across her face.

"I'm not that hideous, am I?"

"No you're not," she mustered weakly.

"Well that's settled then," said the strange woman. "Let's finish our drinks, hear one song from Lez and we'll be in my apartment sooner than you think."

"Do you do this often?" Moira asked.

"Often enough."

They were distracted by a loud cheer as Lez Zeppelin made their appearance on stage. Moira pushed her stool forwards to be more comfortable. The all-queer band paid a fitting homage with their dark leather jackets and hairstyles. A few practice strums later, the entire crowd took in the beautiful sound of Stairway to Heaven.

Moira smiled and swayed with the beat. She felt a strange calm in this world. No one would judge her, no one would reproach. Feeling an unusual stirring, she looked down to see two slender fingers making their way down the front of her pants. She turned around in shock and saw her new acquaintance leaning on her, with her arm wrapped around Moira's waist.

Moira gasped, but the other woman simply smiled back. The main lights were turned off and everybody's attentions were on stage. She looked around helplessly, feeling the delicious rush of pleasure as her new lover slid two fingers into her snatch and curled upwards.

The fingers gently went in and out of her, gradually increasing tempo in sync with the music. They were now going in and out at a fair pace. Moira gasped and groaned in a low voice, her eyes rolling backwards in pleasure. She had long since surrendered to the feelings imparted by the fingers to notice if anyone was looking at them or not.

The guitar solo was torture for Moira. The other woman slid all the way into her, before slowly pulling back until only the tips of her index and middle fingers grazed the labia. Then without warning, she would thrust her them back in.

There was a tongue playing with her earlobe now, occasionally nipping into her ear. The combination made her lose it and she gushed onto the hand at her lower lips. Every ounce of her self-restraint went into stifling a scream of unbridled pleasure. She opened her clenched eyes to find all around her applauding a stellar rendition. Still wobbly from her climax, she too rose and clapped.

"You don't taste bad," Moira heard the woman say behind her. "You will find out for yourself soon enough. Don't worry."

These words were enough to send a shudder through her. Moira turned around and sat facing the woman. For the first time, she had the opportunity to study her closely. She wore sharp business attire, complemented perfectly by a platinum-plated, diamond-encrusted Louis Moinet watch. Her flawlessly smooth skin put her around thirty. Her hair was a wooden shade of red, coming down to her shoulders. What held the most allure for Moira was the eternal look of disenchantment. She didn't seem to care much for anything.

"Who are you?"

"Wouldn't you rather enjoy what comes next and never know?"

The woman kissed a stupefied Moira on the lips before leaving. Moira followed quietly, while Lez Zep stirred the crowd up for their next song. Outside, she saw a red Alfa Romeo convertible draw up. The passenger side door opened and her new lover peered out at her.

"Need an invitation, sweetheart?"

The woman took out a Marlboro and lit it while revving the car onto Hudson Street.

"You want one?" she asked, holding out the pack. Moira shook her head. Her lover took a long drag, controlling the steering wheel with one hand.

"Make yourself useful," she said, exhaling a stream of smoke. "Play with yourself until we get to my place."

Moira was almost sure she saw a sly grin on the woman's face, even as her fingers made their way under her pants.

* *

"We've reached," announced the woman, parking the car. "You enjoyed the ride over, I presume?"

Moira sat, slumped against the leather seat. She wore the crimson flush of multiple orgasms. Her heart thumped against her chest, unable to believe what she had done. Her lover peered inside, watching her catch her breath.

"You okay there?"

"I've never done that before," Moira squeaked.

"Done what before?"

"Any of it," she replied. "I've never masturbated in a car during rush hour, stopped to ask directions while still masturbating or flashed someone out of the window."

"If only you could've seen the look on the couple's face when they saw you," chuckled her friend. "Priceless."

The woman paused to take out another Marlboro and lit it up. She helped Moira out of her car and draped her arm around her limp form. It took a few moments for Moira to find feeling and she used the overpriced car to steady herself.

"Where are we?" she asked, looking around.

"The Upper East Side," said the other woman, exhaling a long stream of smoke. "Home of the rich and arrogant. Would you like a souvenir, ma'am?"

Moira laughed for some time, while her acquaintance finished her smoke. The woman then wrapped her arms around her neck and kissed her. At first, Moira was put off by the nicotine stench, but eventually surrendered to the velvet tongue invading her mouth and fondling her tonsils. The tongue swirled and frothed inside her, carefully exploring every corner of her mouth. The kiss was slow and studied, like a low quivering flame which never exploded into a red hot burst of passion.

The woman withdrew her tongue after a long while and pulled her head back. Moira's eyes were closed, her mind replaying every subtle nuance of the kiss and committing it to memory.

"There's more where that came from," said the stranger with a devilish grin.

In a post-orgasmic haze, Moira followed her towards the elevator. The woman literally yanked her inside and locked lips in a torrid kiss. Moira felt her back pushed against the cold metallic wall and a hand making its way into her pants. She tried to reciprocate, but eventually gave up and let the other tongue invade her mouth. A finger found her clit and rubbed it hard.

For a few tortured moments, Moira forgot about the fact that they were in an elevator. Her senses were only dimly aware of her surroundings, concentrating on the streaks of pleasure coming from her pussy. The familiar stirring returned to the pit of her stomach and she clenched her eyes shut. The finger rubbed even faster, brushing the most sensitive part of her over and over until she teetered precariously off the edge of climax. An electric orgasm surged through her, leaving her limp in its wake.

She snapped out of her trance when she heard the ping of the elevator stopping. The finger whisked out of her snatch in a flash. They had a second to compose themselves before a teenage boy got in. He spent the next four floors listening to his iPod, oblivious of the thick sexual tension wafting all around him. Moira stood in the corner, hoping he would not get curious about the strange smell.

It took all of five seconds after he left, before Moira's friend pushed her fingers into her mouth, letting her taste her own fluids. Moira delicately licked each finger, smiling weakly in approval.

"Told you you'd get a taste."

There were no more sexual misadventures till the thirtieth floor. The woman led the way to her condo suite. Moira followed breathlessly, unsure if her body could take any more.

"Welcome to my humble abode," said the woman with a flourish, making way for her latest conquest. Moira's eyes went from the white foyer, to the pale hue on the walls and the assortment of artworks adorning the place. A sliding pane opened out to a balcony overlooking Central Park and the lofty skyscrapers of Manhattan on the other side.

Her eyes wandered over the place as she felt the straps of her dress sliding off. She turned and saw the woman's sumptuous lips hovering around her shoulder. The lips slowly moved over the skin, pausing to savour her fragrance. Moira sighed when the lips found her neck. The woman planted short pecks all the way to her face. She closed her eyes, awaiting the tell-tale nicotine smell of her lips making contact with her own.

It didn't come. Instead, her eyes opened to her clandestine paramour reclining on an elegantly shaped divan. She lit up another smoke and looked over at Moira.

"Take off your clothes, dear," she drawled, letting out a wisp of smoke. "And do be slow about it. I like to see my empty canvas before I get started on my masterpiece."

Moira gulped and stood in the middle of the living room. Slowly, she undid the knot of her dress and unzipped the back, letting it fall to the floor in a satin puddle. All the while, she was acutely aware of the pair of irises boring into her from across the room. The woman took a long drag, letting the ember on the tip of the filter burn brightly. Her gaze never left Moira, who stepped out of her pants. She stood in her underwear, looking down at the floor disconsolately.

She looked down at the sum total of her insecurities, interlaced with shame. It was a familiar feeling every time she found herself in a strange woman's living room, far away from her family.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" asked the lady. "Don't tell me you're suddenly getting shy."

"It's not that," she brushed off. "It's just.... it... it... I'm sorry. I'll take off the rest now."

"Look at me. I said look." Moira looked up to see the intense, burning gaze fixed on her. Her friend snuffed out her cigarette in an ashtray before speaking again.

"You're beautiful. Don't let anybody tell you otherwise."

"You... You really think so?" asked Moira, morphing into her inner schoolgirl who craved approval. The searching eyes looked up and down her frame. The two pregnancies had left their indelible mark on her body.

"I do think so," said her friend with a nod. "I'll be sure when you take that bra and panties off."

It took barely two seconds before both of Moira's undergarments lay on the mosaic floor. Two minutes before the woman finished admiring her and got off her seat to take the first step. Two long and satisfying hours while she introduced Moira to womanly pleasures she had only dreamt of before.

* *

"Hi, Catherine. How are the kids doing?... Yeah, about that, I'm sorry but I won't be able to come back home tonight... Nothing major, but they're keeping Lizzie another night for some post-operative care and I thought I'd be there for her... Yes, could you take care of those two till tomorrow?... Thanks, you're a life saver. Give my best to Don. Bye."

Moira swiped her phone shut and held it for a few moments, thinking about what she said. It all seemed so easy, so effortless. Little did the person on the other end know she was naked in someone else's living room.

"You're a natural."

She turned her ashamed eyes to see her lover standing at the doorway, naked except for the cigarette in her hand. The woman shot a wicked smile before continuing.

"I guess you do this often, then," she said, exhaling a puff of smoke.

"I don't know what you're..." Moira started. The woman smiled derisively and sauntered over. She took out her free hand from behind her back.

"This fell out of your purse while you were undressing oh-so-hurriedly," she said, never taking her eyes off the plump naked form. Moira took her wedding ring from the woman and held it idly in her hand. Her lover drew up a seat nearby.

"So... what's your story?"

"It's too long and boring," started Moira. "Why don't we pick up right where we left off?"

She leaned in for a kiss, but only felt a stream of smoke against her face. Her shocked eyes opened to see that same disdainful smile.

"Something tells me if your life was long and boring, we wouldn't be here."

"Why do you want to know?" Moira asked.

"'Cause knowing your story might give you an upgrade from just another notch on my bedpost," she said. "I like my notches to have some character. Last night, I had a philosophy grad from Columbia. She's lesbian because she finds her defiance of what society deems normal to be liberating. We spent the night exploring our bodies as well as the deeper truths in Kant's work."

Moira could not deny being enraptured by this curious woman. Even so, she felt reticence forced on by years of keeping her two lives apart.

"How about this? I'll ask you some questions and you answer them as much as you can," the woman said, letting out some more smoke. "I can fill in the blanks pretty well."

Slowly, Moira made her way to an adjacent recliner and sat down. There was a forlorn pall over her face. The other woman studied her intently.

"What do you want to know?" she asked in a dispassionate voice. A tendril of reality had crept into her fantasy.

"Why?"

The solitary word hung in the air. Moira could almost hear it echo back from the walls before it ricocheted against her conscience.

"I don't know," Moira confessed softly. "I really don't."

"Why get married then?"

"I had to. My father was dying and he wanted to see me walk down the aisle with a good man before he passed."

"He never knew you liked girls?"

"His heart couldn't have taken the news," she went on quietly. "He was always the quintessential family values advocate, he made no secrets of his scorn for gays. He doted on me. I just couldn't bring myself to do that to him."

"When did you know?"

"Always, I suppose. I mean, I never made too many friends in school, but I knew. We used to go to my brother's football games. They cheered him on and I waited patiently till half-time when the cheerleaders would begin their routines. That was all I went to see."

The woman paused to open a fresh pack and take out an Ultra Fine. It didn't seem to faze her in the slightest that both of them were naked. She lit her latest cigarette before asking again.

"Who was the first girl you were with?"

"You certainly seem curious," Moira retorted defensively. "What difference does it make who the hell I was with first?"

It took several minutes for both of them to digest the sentence. Moira gulped, still not believing that she still felt so strongly about it. The other woman put her smoke down for a second and looked curiously at her.

"Ouch, I seem to have touched a nerve there," smiled the stranger. "The memory is that bad, huh?"

"It's worse. Much worse. I've never been able to tell anyone."

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," the woman said, looking straight at her. "But in my experience, bottling such a thing up for so long isn't a healthy sign."

"I'm way past that now. Bottling it up is how I wake up in the morning and get out of bed," she replied wearily. "That and the Prozac."

"Prozac?" asked her friend inquiringly. "You need Prozac? It sucks to be you."

She nodded ruefully. The woman turned her gaze to the window. Her eyes ran over the trees and hedges bathed in starlight outside.

"Try Desyrel. It works better."

Moira looked at her lover, her eyes growing wide. The cold, invulnerable armour bared the tiniest chink. The woman continued to look at the park while she said.

"Happiness laughs alone. Pain needs company."

The woman turned around. It took a few moments for Moira to understand what was in front of her, but she gasped. There were several scars and wounds across the length and breadth of the woman's back. Some were old, while the others were relatively fresh. They criss-crossed all the way from her neck to the base of her spine. She reached out and touched one, making her lover flinch momentarily.

"What..? How..?"

"You're not the only one with a dangerous pastime," she said quietly.

* *

The night was cloudless. The full moon lit up the sky with its silvery halo. The illumination crept in through the skylight, lighting a large patch on the carpet where the naked lovers lay. Their fingers interlaced and they stared up at the myriad stars looking down on them from above.

"It's so peaceful," Moira remarked. Her body was trembling with anticipation when the hand in hers slipped out and she felt it against the back of her thigh. Her legs were pushed apart. She looked down to see a pair of ruby red lips kissing the side of her thigh. The woman looked at her wickedly, before planting a softer kiss on her inner thigh.

Moira threw her head back and felt the lips kissing along the inside of her thigh, closer and closer towards the centre of her burning desire. The lips were even closer now, nipping at the skin all around her clit. To her dismay, the woman then kissed upwards along the other thigh, leaving her tingling and aroused beyond belief. She sensed that and smirked up at her.

"Patience, dear. We'll get to that eventually."

Patience was a rather painful virtue for Moira at the moment. Her amour repeated her path from one thigh to the other, never letting her lips and tongue touch the inflamed clitoris so pleadingly laid out for her. Moira clawed at the carpet in frustration, pushing her pelvis upwards. Her pussy was suddenly pushed back down by a sharp smack directly on her splayed lips.

She yelped with surprise and the stinging pain. The woman rested on her elbows and admired the nether region turning a bright shade of pink before she said calmly.

"You almost enjoyed that."

Moira was about say something, but the sound caught in her throat. She felt a rough layer of tastebuds touch her clit for the first time. The initial shock made her clench her eyes shut as the tongue licked all the way to the bottom of her engorged lips before gently retracing the path to her fleshy mound.

The licking became more intense. Moira felt the woman's tongue go inside her, deep enough to feel it against her fleshy wall. She rolled her eyes back into her head with pleasure at each passing slurp. The woman paused before clamping her clit between her lips and lashing at it furiously with the tip of her tongue. Moira actually sat up with a jolt to see the decadent vision of her clitoris being devoured by a stranger.

Before long, she felt two fingers inside her as well. They plunged in and out of her in small, sharp rapier like thrusts. Torrents of pleasure cascaded through her body, scorching every nerve ending it passed over. Her vision became blurred and her other senses began to dim. All that she was aware of was a powerful climax hurtling towards her.

The fingers were going faster and deeper. They pulled all the way out of her pussy before going as deep as they could in a metronomic rhythm. The woman's hand was merely a blur between Moira's legs. Her mouth remained on her clit, feasting on the engorged mound.

LaRascasse
LaRascasse
1,126 Followers