Sketches of the White Tigress #2

Bijou loves more than anything, with the men, to make them look at her in that amazed, drugged way they look when she is taking them higher than they have ever been, when she is being their fondest and deepest fantasy, more than they ever dreamed. When she can take them beyond their own judgments of the women who would actually give them what they truly want, the women who would actually enjoy what men dream of and what they darkly desire.

She watches their judgments, watches them struggle with what they've been told about their own desire and about any women who would actually go to those places, desire it themselves, and she takes them beyond those judgments, so hot and full of sensation that they forget their own names, forget what they think, forget anything but the face of the goddess that rides them into wordlessness with a simple flick of the wrist, a simple opening of the lips. She loves being their fantasy, and more than their fantasy, taking everything a step further than they realize it could be taken. They have been taught that there are no women who want what they want. She shows them differently, that many women want things they cannot name, or cannot admit, and she teaches them how to coo, and soothe, and move, and lead women toward their own ecstasy, beyond their imaginations.

She does this by being that woman, and letting the men see that this exists.

She finds a sweet Green Dragon, one whose Jade is delicious and full, one who may be Jade himself someday. One night she goes to him and finds, deep in the folds of his fear and anger, a fantasy, and lives it out for him. She teaches him how to teach her, that night, telling him that her tight and impossible ass longs to be entered, longs to awaken to delicacy and hunger, longs to balance out the laser beam path of her clitoris, her key, her un-hidden sex, and hang on the central pillar of that delicate spot deep within her tunnel, that electric button that shocks her spine.

It is all true, everything is true of her in one sense or another, but in this case she sculpts it to his fantasy and takes it higher than he imagined, and in this way she raises the yang to a new peak. This is how it happens: she invites him to sit with her, and she tells him of her fantasy of the fierce and angry and lustful cowgirl, the one with the crop, and she tells it like this:

"I saw this movie once, with two women. They kissed and drove their fingers into each other for a long time, and then one of them, the dark-haired one, went down on the other, and began banging her fingers, harder and harder, into the light-haired one's pussy as she licked and sucked. They were both moaning and cooing, and I loved listening to the noises; they seemed to be very real, even though it was a movie. i think they were really liking this scene."

As Bijou is telling him this story she is stroking his ears, his neck, casually. Her hands play along his thighs and his breath gets ragged.

"The dark haired one kept getting so excited as she went down on the other that she would slap the behind, the hips, the thighs, of the other woman. You could see the pink coming onto the skin, and you could see how the blond woman jumped and then settled back, every time more excited. It was like the dark-haired one couldn't help it, just got so overwrought as her mouth just sucked and licked like is was the most delicious thing she'd ever tasted. She just kept slapping, and slapping, more and more, and you could tell she was really getting off on how the blond woman was responding, like she was discovering something she'd always wanted but never knew about.

"She kept diving her fingers into the woman's pussy, between slaps. And she kept getting hungrier and hungrier, and the blond woman was all dripping wet by then, and the juice was running all the way down between her legs. Then it was like the dark-haired woman discovered that little extra hole, further down, it was like she hadn't really thought about it but then she did, and she just so wanted to be in, in, in everywhere that she started to play around that space, the blond woman's ass, and the blond woman went crazy, and lifted her hips. like she wanted just as much to have everything in her, every space filled.

"So everything is happening at once, all these little spaces with fingers thrusting in and out of them, and this desperate, almost unconscious slapping, and the dark-haired woman suddenly sits back, because she's not done, and this blond chick is getting really close, and really crazy. And the dark-haired woman sits back, and then she reaches behind her and gets this riding crop, which is right there, of course, and she makes the blond woman turn over on her knees, so that she's kneeling on the floor and resting on this couch, and the blond woman is all desperate because she was really really hot. But the dark-haired woman makes her hold still.

"Then she starts slapping, like she's just curious what will happen, smacking the woman just a little with the crop, right across the back of her behind and the tops of her thighs, and you can see how juicy her pussy is, how turned on she is, and she's moving back and forth and yelping when the crop hits her, these little whacks with the tip, one side and then the other. And the dark-haired woman just keeps going back and forth, like when she sees that the energy is going down she reaches forward and tickles the blond woman's little key, or slides her fingers in, whatever the blond woman seems to be missing. Keeps just going back and forth, and watching what's happening, just hypnotized. And the blond woman is writhing, and moaning, and she hardly even knows what she wants anymore.

"You can tell that the dark-haired woman is just out of her mind, she's so turned on. She's got one hand down on her own pussy, not even really paying attention or doing anything, just so overcome... And you can see that that's part of what the light woman is responding to, that she's being so sexy that the other woman just can't even think straight. So she's begging, and she's whining, and she doesn't care, she just wants something done to her... And it's like the dark-haired woman's in this rage, this out-of-control rage, feeling the same thing, like the blond is saying just put something in me, anything, anywhere, just bang me, touch me, anything... and the dark woman is hearing this, and is feeling it too, just this gorgeous animal in front of her with all these fascinating places to go into...

"So she looks at this riding crop and then she looks at the other end of it, which is this handle, very nicely shaped, hard and thin, sorta rubbery, and even as she's looking at it, holding it in one hand, she's almost unconsciously fingering this woman, running her hand around, making the blond woman moan and rock and beg. And she looks over, and sees that whole ass, that juicy pussy, just thrusting out at her, begging for anything. There's a bottle of oil, and she just picks it up and pours some down onto the blond woman's tailbone, and it runs down, into the division and over her ass and her pussy. And then she starts to slowly slide the handle of this riding crop into the woman's gate, and pretty soon she's fucking her with it, and then taking it out and slapping her with the other end, and the blond woman is going crazy.

"But it's so thin, this handle, that she starts having ideas, so she takes it out and starts to slide the tip of it into the blond woman's ass, this dark little rose... And she's back and forth, touching herself, and running her fingers around the blond woman's clit, the oil all over it, you can tell she's really slippery and wet.

"And then she stops all of a sudden and she throws this scarf around the blond woman's wrists and ties it to the arm of the couch, and pulls back on her hips so the light-haired woman is all stretched out, face down on this couch, and then she goes back to it, sliding the handle into the woman's little rose, not her pussy, and then taking it out and smacking her with it, and just going back and forth and taking the woman up one sensation and then the other until she doesn't even know what she wants more anymore, and the whole time she's got her other hand moving around, just exploring, diving into her pussy and tickling her clit and going up to her nipples and back down..."

Bijou notices the man's cock is rock hard and he's shifting around, and they're still sitting casually, fully clothed, in their chairs. She continues.

"So eventually this woman is so overcome by what she's doing that she ends up sorta climbing onto the blond woman's back, sorta crouched over facing back, and for a little while she just goes crazy, back and forth between the crop and the handle, leaning over to tickle underneath, like she can't keep her hands off the pussy, can't keep her finger away from the clit and the response it gets. Then it's like she focuses down, she's going to have mercy, and she settles into this rhythm, pumping that handle in kinda slower and deep, with these really deep moans like it's actually happening to her instead of her doing it to someone else, and reaching through to stroke everything else, and she gets back behind the woman so she can watch, and it looks like she's actually working her thumb into the woman's pussy and stroking her with two fingers on the little button, and she's talking now, just saying yeah, o take it, take all that, do it, let go, and she's asking questions, like she's interrogating almost, she's saying, do you want that, do you like that, should I stop, just making the woman answer over and over again, yes, do it, yes, I want that...

"And finally the blond woman comes, like a freight train, howling and convulsing, and while she's still coming the dark-haired woman turns her over and up onto the couch, just sorta lifts her up so she's on her back with her legs up and spread, and the dark-haired woman just jumps on top of her and fits their legs around each other so their pussies are together. she's got the blond woman's leg straight up along her chest and she's holding onto it and pressing her pussy down onto the other woman's pussy and she just rides, and rides, and rides, all up against that, until she comes, and the blond woman is bouncing up against her and pushing as hard as she can...

Bijou says, "I always liked to think that that's one scene that was real. They seemed like they were really into it, and I pretend that they were filming a whole different scene and then suddenly they just started getting into it and making up their own ideas. It was a smart director, so he didn't stop them, and that's what he caught."

Bijou notices that the man is shifting around in his seat, and that his hands are sweating and his face is red.

She says, "I'd like to learn how that feels. I've tried to do that a few times and it just never worked for me. But I think with some patience, in something like that, I could really like that." She looks shyly up at the man.

The man is overwhelmed with desire. He takes her into the next room and undresses her, and she leans back, drinking in his energy as he makes her his plaything, touching everywhere, like a starving man at a feast. He drinks her, kissing her lips, her nipples, the small of her back, the insides of her thighs, and as he begins to go down on her he allows himself the pleasure of sending fingers everywhere, inside her, front and back, and listening to her coo and moan and urge him further. He is insane with desire; this is something he's always wanted. Because he is wiser than most men, he knows that she has recognized this fantasy in him, and responded to it with her own desires, the scenes she has always had.

He sends his fingers into her, and then very gently readies her for going further. He is overwhelmed, crazed with hunger, and it takes him to higher and higher levels as he tries to stay in control and talk her through each little step, as he moves from fingers to the toy, the phallic wand, each time a little deeper than the last as she moans and coos, and his fingers and tongue play around her pussy, playing her like a complex musical instrument, listening to her moans and sighs. He feels like he will burst with hunger; his cock is so hard it almost hurts, everything it touches accidentally sending shocks through his spine.

He turns Bijou on her side, now sliding the little wand in and out of her ass, tonguing her and then touching his fingertip to her clit, sliding it into her pussy, shifting and shifting, keeping her surprised, keeping her in suspense.

It isn't enough; he feels that she is doing this for him. He has always felt that he has had to coerce women into their own ecstasy, that given the choice, or free of his desire, they would not go these places or do these things. But he notices that Bijou's hips are thrusting back into his hand, that she is pressing backwards to drive the wand deeper.

He gets up on the bed, turning round so that he can press his face in between her legs, so that his hand is free to hold the wand while he presses the tip of his tongue to her over and over, flicker and suck and lick, and drive the wand slowly in and out to her moans. Her hands are down on his head, tugging at his hair and ears, and then he feels one of them on his cock, grasping, desperate.

Not believing, but willing to push the limits, wanting to truly know whether or not this was all for his benefit alone, he gently draws her hand back to her own body and draws it round behind, to hold the end of the wand that even now rocks in and out of her. He puts his hand over hers and keeps the rhythm, making hers the hand that presses it in, draws it out, thrusts it in again. His face is buried in her, her salt and musk draw him ever more sweetly in.

He realizes, almost casually, that her mouth is on his cock, and she is sucking desperately, moaning around it, hungrily. She wants that, truly wants to do that. And his whole body opens and finds a rhythm and moves deep into her mouth. And then he realizes that she has taken away the end of the wand, that he can lift his hand away and she is moving it in and out herself, sliding it deep, fucking herself, abandoned to it, and her hungry little key is moving on his tongue, and then he is lost in it, lost in his own body, nothing but a cock being swallowed, a tongue flickering on the red edge of the world, and his mind bends with the joy and the glee of knowing that he has not made this, has not insisted on it, is not being humored or pleased, but that this is her pleasure, her idea, her desire alone.

She moves, and moves, and finally bursts onto his tongue, howling and cooing, and her juices flow over his face, and her hand flutters on the wand. Overwhelmed, and down into his cock, he bursts too, drawn sky-high by her everywhere tongue, her mouth enclosing him, her hand circling his root and the squeeze of her fingers and her lips, his hips overtake him and he can't help it, takes a handful of her hair and presses her face onto his cock over and over at the edge for what seems like hours, riding and riding the razor edge of his climax, spreading it further and further until it seems like he exists only as hunger and energy, that his body is one solid rod engulfed in the white-hot incomprehensible motion of her lips and tongue, the depths of her mouth.

When he comes, finally, his body is a volcano, and he has a vision of himself bursting up into the level of stars, casting his own milky way over the sky. It seems to empty from the top of his head, out every pore and every finger, he is made of fire and water and he dissolves, cleansed of everything, even his own name. He is everything, she is the rest of everything. His arms around her hips, his face pressed into her, wordless howl, a complete explosion of his cells.

Afterward, they bathe themselves in each other's skin, sliding together, sweat and juice. They lick tears from each other's eyes. They breathe, and try to remember their own names, and then realize they don't care.