Spirits in the Material World

Taken by force and a bit aback, Sonya's expression reflected the same. But she'd only seconds to squeal a quick "Mmm!" as Trish seared her lips with her own. Sonya allowed her eyes to flutter shut to enjoy the sensations. Body heat engulfed her. Trish's poofy mane of feathery Bonnie Tyler whips spilled about Sonya's face. Trish idolized Bonnie Tyler...at least her hair. And her couple mega-hit songs. Her lashes and nose respectively butterfly and Eskimo kissed Sonya. Trish aligned horizontally, arching down, leaving her left leg to lie as was, bending her right between Sonya's. Her unique pheromones fetchingly toyed with Sonya's olfactory sense.

Now that her girl was down, as it were, Sonya slipped her wrists out of Trish's grasp. And set about, with increased zeal, to toss her arms around Trish and pull her close as possible. Trish's belly lapped Sonya's. Her left tit rested on Sonya's right, and vice versa. All four nipples gradually awoke. Feeling them twinge through their shirts, all four eyes closed, the girls curled their mouths up, into knowing smiles of pleasure. It began to feel very good, on bottom and top. They just let minute after minute float on by, cuddling and kissing, bringing the foreplay to the desired temperature.

Trish's (front) paws were momentarily free, and she no longer needed them for propping or balance. So she let them wander. One found its way under Sonya's shirt to fondle her side. The other palmed her ass in her jeans. Sonya's hands worked together on their tasks. They drew up the back of Trish's top, and slowly undid her bra. Anything they could do nice and slow, to make the moments last and prolong the passion, was fair game. When all four hooks were unfastened, Sonya let go, and smoothed her palms down Trish's lower back. Reaching the hem of her jammie pants, Sonya snuck her digits beneath them, and under the panties as well. Her fingertips rode the shapely curve of Trish's own tush, squeezing two nice handfuls.

Trish tingled, realizing Sonya'd claimed a bit of an advantage over her. She had Trish's bra undone, and so too was going for naked flesh under her bottoms. Trish saw she'd a modicum of catching up to do. Not wanting to rush, she pondered how to proceed, and chose her next move. She penetrated Sonya's lips with her tongue, turning their long, lusty kiss into a long, lusty baiser. Welcoming this feeling, Sonya burrowed her head in the pillow, encouraging Trish lower. Moans began to sizzle up the room. What with the limited accessibility of Sonya's bra for the moment, Trish elected next to unhand her ass, dance her fingers up to the front of Sonya's jeans, and just barely tangibly grope her pussy through them, before approaching the fly.

Sonya gasped through the nose, and felt her own fire fueled on. Feeling more aggressive, she snatched the gore of Trish's now loose bra, plucked it off her, and flung it to the carpet. Trish's girls bobbled free. Sonya grinned through their kisses—which were breaking more and more frequently for oral respiration—lost no time, and grabbed Trish by both exposed boobs. Trish's response was a grunt that signaled she—not unlike her companion—was becoming a libidinous animal. Trish took in the whole of the breast grope, willed it to tide her for the moment, and hissed a command.

"Now get your bra off, you dirty whore."

Sonya smiled, pecked Trish's cheek, released her tits and snuck her paws under her back and shirt to start. While she was doing this, Trish pushed herself up a second, whipped off her shirt and sent it to join her bra on the floor. Next were her stretchy comfy pants, which slid nice and easy down her legs. Once they were to her ankles, she took hold of Sonya's hem, and unlocked the denim barrier to her womanhood. As her fox of a girlfriend's own brassiere popped off, Trish again locked fiery eyes with Sonya.

"Grrrrrr," purred Trishy, gritting her pearly whites.

Taking the hint, Sonya lifted her ass, making it easy for Trish to free her coochie. Sonya smirked, batted her baby teals, and whispered the word "roar." Next went her own bra, flying to the floor with the other discarded garments. Trish flipped her eyebrows at Sonya. Jeans unzipped and tugged down a bit, she abruptly dove into her midsection, and through now only her panties, sank her teeth into Sonya's cunt. Sonya's gut reaction was a gasping lurch upwards.

"Fuck!" Sonya's hands seized the mattress and grabbed two fistfuls, as a first strike of passion nailed her. Trish grinned wickedly up at her, absolutely loving the effect her tactics were earning. She growled like a dog once more, and pulled on Sonya's panties with her teeth. Her chompers took down the front, as her paws undressed her from both ass cheeks. Sonya's musky scent emerged as she dampened. Face in Sonya's moist drape-matching carpet, Trish giggled. Sonya caught her breath and smirked.

"...'The hell're you gigglin' at?" she cooed.

"Your bush tickled my nose." The pants and undergarment descended. While Trish's guard was down for the moment, Sonya got her own salacious idea. She kept her butt elevated, took Trish by the back of her head, smushed her face in her crotch and vigorously wiggled it. Trish screamed with laughter, smacking at Sonya's arms. Sonya let go, enjoying her own laugh at her beloved's expense. Trish looked back up to leer at her through strands of messy hair.

"You filthy little slut."

Sonya shrugged. "Your filthy little slut."

Sixty seconds more elapsed, during which the bottoms and panties joined the tops and bras. This left two big-haired, bodacious-breasted, sweaty hot naked babes occupying the bed, about to pounce one another. Each intended to go slow and steady, but neither could help herself. They seized one another about the shoulders, veritably locking horns as if grappling in a wrestling match—an activity not unlike what was about to happen. They moved in, rapidly closing space between, generating yet more groans and growls. A dozen patches of ripe pink flesh rubbed exquisitely, intimately together. Hot breath flew into both faces. Torrid kisses resumed. Fingers dug through locks of hair, groping at one another's nape, shoulder blades, torso, spines, hips, pelves. Their tits plumped. Their pussies wettened. Their rumps shook like those of cats in huntress mode, which they very much were. They went at each other on their knees, until gravity compelled them to surrender.

Trish and Sonya rolled end over end, and Sonya ended up on top for the moment. Moans filtered out. Enveloped in each other's arms, Sonya's hands were a bit pinned. Trish's roamed up and down Sonya's back, digging in her nails, leaving red scratchy streaks. She grabbed one of Sonya's ass cheeks and sank her fingernails into it as well. Groans grew and escalated. The four gams kicked and flailed until finding a desired position. Sonya peeled her lips off Trish's long enough to rasp another sexy sweet nothing.

"God, I fuckin' love you so much."

Trish leered up into her face. She normally didn't swear out loud, but made exceptions in cases like this.

"Back at'cha, ya dirty fuckin' whore."

Something in Sonya had always been partial to profanity, as she felt it amplified her point. What was more, exchanging such smutty pillow talk lit her ablaze. Her nipples stiffened, rubbing adjacent to Trish's and exciting hers in turn. She leaned into Trish, ground her pelvis and began scissoring. She watched with ecstasy as Trish visibly reacted to the scissor sex, wincing and grimacing in a helpless moan. Sonya bared as many teeth as an ear-to-ear smile would accommodate.

"Yesssssss...that's it, ya little fuckin' bitch. Say ya want it."

"I want it."

"Say my name."

"I want it, Sonya. I want you so fuckin' bad."

Sonya nodded. "Damn right ya do, whore. Now take it."

With that, she threw it home. She went to town on her. She plucked her dominant right paw out from under Trish, shoved it between their pussies and began ramming her fingers inside. Trish's eyes almost instantaneously rolled back in her head as it whipped and slammed her pillow. She abruptly started to shriek with burning, white-hot lust.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!" Trishy screamed, taken utterly by surprise. "AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!! OMIGOD! OMIGOOOOD!!"

"YEAH! YEAH! YEAH! YEAH! YES! YES!! FUCKIN' YES!!" countered Sonya. Flaming bursts of passion exploded through both lasses like pinballs. Their skin blotched red. Trish scratched up Sonya's back ever more and more, as Sonya licked and spat on her hand to ensure they were lubed all over. She thrusted and pumped on Trish, index and middle fingers of one hand in Trishy's cunt, the other in her own. Trish decided to take some initiative next. She summoned some impressive strength, leaned up, bit Sonya's lower lip, flipped her over and rolled on top. This culled quite the reaction out of Sonya.

"NNNNGGGH!" she squealed. Trish released her lip and chuckled seductively down on her. She whipped her own hand free, licked her fingers and started furiously rubbing Sonya's pussy and clit back. Sonya agreed to assume the bottom for just a second, as the two of them settled into a mattress-surfing rhythm, mutually scissoring and masturbating each other. Need to both breathe and scream limited their powers of speech, to single-syllable sounds and expletives. Sonya eventually tossed and wriggled her way back on top. Just outside the bedroom, the thermostat clicked up a degree as a result of their body heat alone.

It was perfect. Both felt as if about to blast loose from an orgasmic Sapphic cannon, into the loving bosom of lesbian heaven. Their lust-drenched screams harmonized into a cacophony of ear-splitting delirium. Everything built, at a pace and intensity neither could control. Balls of sizzle showered like hot meteors, engulfing them in flames. Their bodies generated sweat angels in the sheets. It was so incredible, both lost focus and fell out of rhythm. But they needed neither step nor sync anymore. They had the wave up and cresting fast, and were strapped in tight for the ride's momentous end. Sonya had herself propped just enough to maintain her thrust. She'd both fists planted in the mattress, fiercely gripping wet fabric. Trishy flailed about underneath her, whapping her front and hind paws like a tantrummy child. Sonya forced the most recent of singeing French kisses on her, holding Trish's tongue firm with mouth suction. Trish felt herself about to lose it. She was ready to erupt. She could count it down with pinpoint precision. Sonya wasn't far behind, but a bit. She was just about to blow her girlfriend through the portal of no return, and shortly follow. Trishy's swollen red pussy contracted and clenched against Sonya's, quaked, trembled...

And at last exploded.

Sonya felt Trish's cum pelt and splash her mere nanoseconds before Trish confirmed the big 'o,' with a croak, a gasp for breath, and the most primal banshee yell of the evening. Her entire frame spasmed and convulsed, as the climax relentlessly, mercilessly jolted her. Sonya held her pussy fast and steady against Trish's, as if pumping her full of electric shocks, making her jerk and flop all over. Inevitably, she wound down. Her monster orgasm was complete.

All of this was of course to take nothing away from Sonya's own big bad 'o,' which was imminent on the heels of Trishy's. As her girlfriend's lung-piercing screeches died down, Sonya discerned she no longer need finger Trish off. So she collected some of Trish's cum, and rubbed it into her own sex. She let herself down, draping over Trish, feeling her belly rapidly rise and fall. God, it was wonderful. Her darling's naked, spent body now lying there so peaceful and serene. Finding herself near Trish's ear, Sonya did her best not to scream, but gave off a series of groans in lieu. Her legs kicked and lurched, toes burrowing into the sheet, as her own orgasm finally assaulted her. She couldn't say she'd expected anything more.

"OOOOOHHHHHHHHHHH..." she caterwauled, trying to muffle herself in the mattress so as not to disturb Trish. Trish often enjoyed a few winks following such an Earth-rocking motherfucker climax. Even in the afternoon. She was getting to the ages when the value of naps was appreciable. Following this, in fact, both could use quite a while of shut-eye. So while Sonya wasn't about to suppress herself, it wasn't necessary to break the decibel meter. She proceeded to cum as well, as beautifully, as splendidly, and for as long as she could manage. Once done seeing stars, her bearings slowly came back.

Damn...what a fuckin' head rush.

Sonya gazed down to assess. Still breathing deep, full breaths, Trish had her eyes mostly closed. It looked as though she was half-asleep, but not quite all the way yet. Sonya let herself down by her side and called softly.

"Trishy?"

The faintest reply emerged. "Ehh?..."

Sonya smiled tenderly. She mouthed the words "I love you," then nuzzled and kissed Trish's ticklish nose. Trishy approved with a semiconscious little smile back. At last, Sonya retrieved another pillow, placed it beside her beloved's, laid her head, and slipped her arm back around Trish's middle, to snuggle her to sleep.

*****

Do You Really Want To Hurt Me?

Saturday, January 5th, 1985, 8:06 p.m.

The sun was completely down. Trish danced through Dreamland, to the song she and Sonya had adopted as their special couple's song: "We've Got Tonite" by Bob Seger and The Silver Bullet Band. The song came out in 1978, just a few months after Trishy and Sonya officially began dating steady. While she'd admit it sounded a tad awkward, Trish preferred the phrase "dating steady." "Going steady" was too high school for her. They weren't teenagers anymore; they were young yet grown women.

She stirred and awoke, as she felt Sonya crawl over her and get out of bed. She probably just needed a drink of water, thought Trish. Or to go to the bathroom. Or both. While she had the bed to herself for the moment, Trish stretched her limbs.

"OW! Fuck!"

Trish's eyes popped open.

"Shit! Goddammit!"

Realizing something was quite wrong, Trish too rose from the bed, in alarm, and staggered to the door. She stepped just outside it, to see Sonya clutching a foot in her hands, face cringing in pain.

"Babe?...What's the matter? What happened?"

Sonya looked up...to glare at her.

"I'll tell you what's the matter and what happened, Trish: I stubbed my toes on your damn shoes!"

Trish looked down. Indeed, sure enough, there lay a pair of her knotted bow leather heels, overturned on the carpet.

"Oh god...oh god, Sonya, sweetheart, I'm so sorry! Lemme...lemme kiss it. I'll make it all better. Okay?"

She took a knee, and reached for Sonya's injured ped. To her unpleasant surprise, Sonya denied her request.

"No, Trish! Not okay!" she hollered at her. "You are always fucking doing this! You're always leaving your shit all over the place! It drives me crazy! The other day I slipped on that magazine of yours and fell flat on my back, then that ridiculous banana clip in the living room, now this! How the hell hard is it to pick up after yourself?!"

Trish furrowed her eyebrows, stung by these harsh remarks. But one of her go-to objectives in tough situations was humor, so she thought she'd try to alleviate things with it.

"Well, maybe your...feet don't like you. Or maybe they want you to let your beautiful sweet girlfriend rub and kiss 'em all better!"

Sonya pierced her with a constant, seething dagger. Trish saw she was in no mood to laugh. She reiterated her contrition.

"Sonya...I'm sorry! I said I'm sorry! Look, I...I know I'm not the neatest girl in the world, okay? Yeah, it's one of my shortcomings, I know. But I've-I've...I've got my good points too, y'know! There's good and bad to both of us, honey; you and me."

The next words Sonya growled at Trish simultaneously froze and scorched her blood.

"Fuck you, Trish."

Trish felt her heart stop mid-beat.

"...What did you just say to me??"

The ever-oblivious Fluffernutter contentedly trotted by, and again set about to figure-eight Sonya's legs. "Mrrrrow."

"Oh, stupid motherf—"

Clearly in no mood for Her Fluffiness either, Sonya reflexively reared back with her hurt foot, but stopped herself. But Trish noticed.

"W—...were you seriously just about to kick my cat?!"

Ignoring the question, Sonya stormed past Trish back into the bedroom, making a beeline for the closet.

"Sonya! I'm talking to you!"

"Yeah, well, I'm not talking to you," Sonya shot back, snatching enough articles to throw together an outfit. She began dressing.

"Wh—...what're you doing?" Trish wanted to know.

Deeming this query rhetorical as well, Sonya gussied herself to the socks, and marched back out of the bedroom and down the hall. Trish followed, still wanting to know just what on Earth was going on.

"Sonya Ami Ross!"

Sonya crossed to the living room, found and put on her shoes, adjourned to the coat closet, and retrieved her jacket and scarf as well. Next, she grabbed her purse off the arm of the sofa. The still naked Trish watched her, hands on hips.

"Where are you going??"

Sonya knew what she was saying, but didn't seem to care an iota.

"Somewhere you're not."

Trish continued to disbelieve what she was hearing.

"Excuse me?!"

Quickly ensuring she had her keys and wallet in the purse, a bundled-up Sonya paced as deliberately to the door, and exited. Trish, nude, and for once indifferent to the frigid temperature, stamped to the door behind her, and held it open to repeat her question. The unforgiving chill hardened her nipples almost instantly.

"Sonya, answer me! Where do you think you're going?!"

All she heard through the whistling winds were a few last muttered words. Though she couldn't be sure, she thought she heard—

"...hate you fuckin' bitch."

Trish snapped. Even if this wasn't quite what Sonya'd said, she'd managed to rattle the hell out of her girlfriend's brain in just a few short minutes. And pushed her remarkably rapidly to the blood-boiling breaking point. She lost all control. Abruptly, she neither longer cared what came out of her mouth, or to whom she said it.

"You're the fuckin' bitch, and I hate you too! Go to hell!!" she yelled after. Wasting no more time or words, she slammed the door. Four Maine Coon paws pranced across the room, their owner turning up her gaze to address her Mommy.

"Mrrrrrow."

Trishy sighed, feeling tears stab her eyes. She couldn't believe this! Ten minutes ago, everything was fine! How...

Siiiiiiiiigh.

She stooped and picked up the cat.

"C'mon, Fluff, let's go lay down. You don't yell at me, and you're smart enough to actually watch where you walk."

*****

Love Will Tear Us Apart / Don't Let It End

Saturday, January 5th, 1985, 11:12 p.m.

Trish and Fluffernutter resumed their places on the couch, launching another hour of more or less idle television. Trish had cleared the coffee table, fixed a mug of hot cocoa and dumped out a puzzle, but since touched neither, only the remote in her hand. Again, nothing on the myriad of cable channels seemed to please her. Even as a native Minnesotan, she was apathetic to the election news.