The Libertine Bubble Pt. 01

"Did you hear that?"

I turn to make my way back to kneel at her feet and I glance at the video monitor and I listen. Sean is still fine. I'm confused. I study Toby's face as I settle again at her feet. She is looking toward the ceiling.

"Hear what?" I ask as I rub each of her feet dry and set them on my lap.

"Like, scraping," says Toby, "like foot steps, walking on the roof. Can you hear it?"

I look up. I listen. I listen longer.

"No, Toby. I don't hear anything. Are you okay? Aren't you, relaxed?"

She settles her gaze on me.

"I'm relaxed, yes." She answers, "Thank you."

"No," I say, "Thank you."

She tilts her head, collected beads of sweat beginning to trail down her temples, her column of hair loosening slightly, allowing just a few strands to fall prettily around her cheecks, one strand so close to her nose that I can see it move close and away with her breathing, close again and away again and I want to be that strand. I want to be inside Toby's skin. I want to be the slovenly world and I want to be the jar, even though I know I am the jar.

"Thank me?" she says softly, "For what?"

This is when I stare at her for a little while before I finally bring my lips to the tops of her feet and proceed to spread sweet little kisses all over them, breathing in as deeply of her as I can breathe, and as the sweat is dripping from my forehead and onto Toby's feet and is pouring down my sides and slicking my inner thighs.

"Charlotte?" says Toby, her voice oh so quiet and slow that it is a harmony to thegentle breezes blowing outside the window behind her.

Her toes have been in my mouth for a few seconds now and I am dreading her asking me to stop. So I continue to suck her toes and fill my mouth with them a while longer, risking Toby lifting her feet away from my eager, hungry mouth. Finally though, I answer her.

"Yes Toby?"

"If I, play naked, will you listen to me, the, the same way, you know, naked, too?"

She's nervous! It's wonderful that she's nervous and finally in spite of the heat built inside me, I smile, I grin. I regard Toby as I realize the slick of my adoration of her feet is all around my mouth and chin, so I wipe it off with the sleeve of my sweater, and then I set her feet onto the floor. We get to our feet and I realize that Toby is sweating as profusely as I've been. Her forehead is gleaming. Her long neck is shining. Her arms are glistening and I help her to take her guitar off.

Now the guitar's on me and I touch it very gently. I run my fingers along its contours and I feel the lush smears of the oils in her skin and the dried sweat stains left behind by her right wrist. I turn to look at her and she is admiring me. It makes me shy. I smile again. Then my face grows serious when I realize that she is lifting the hem of her shirt and I want it to last longer. I want to see her do it differently, but it's gotten so seriously God damned hot.

And then there she is, Tobiah Lynn Pakenham, her full femininity exposed, revealed to me. The symmetry of her high yet side weighted breasts, the rose animal splender of her long,triumphant nipples, the glorious shade they cast over her sweat luminous tapering ribs, the lovely small of her waist, the gently robust swell of her hips that lead my eyes to her sacred, golden haird wicked domain, her providence, she is more magnificent than anything. She is smiling the smallest, most serious smile I have ever seen and her eyes are saying the exact same thing her smile is saying.

Let the wave crash into us and dash us against the rocks, and let our shards be scattered. Let the supreme artist collect our pieces as she collects the sand. Let her fuel her fire and fan her flame, and then let her bring us together again into one bright molten glowing red orange ball of primordial life so that we may be fused together and remade into something more than each of us could ever be apart.

Still wearing Tobiah's guitar, I step close to her. I reach up, stretching because she is just a little taller than me, to her heaped mass of golden brown hair and I unravel it, loosening it and dropping the three bands that had bound it. Tobiah shakes her head, and then I softly comb my fingers through the length of her shining hair. As I work, Tobiah's guitar slowly sways between us and its sstrings gives her pussy little kisses.

I step back and whisper for her to turn around. Toby slowly turns and I am instantly sent a shiver by the magnificent sight of her creamy, subtlely olive hued buttocks and the shadow inside their stirringly lovely clef, a pink hued shadow cast in the dimple between the top of her lobes that quickly darkens to a murky, divinely secret black rose. I imagine I am the droplets of sweat that trickle down the length of her back and puddle in that glorious pink shadowed dimple.

I am somewhat weak in my knees as I then take her hair and I spread it, I pet it, caress it, so that it falls as evenly around her shoulders as I can manage without an actual brush. Then, I turn Toby back around and I drape a few tendrils of her hair along the sides of her face, framing it for my memory as I study her sweet, solemn countenence, her humid, flush hued conplection and the green animal fire smoldering in her eyes.

She is so, so beautiful, I want to cry. But, I am too overwhelmed by the heat inside me and the heat inside her. So, I slowly bring my lips finally to Toby's and she just short of lunges for my mouth. The guitar between us is bouncing against us and squeals quietly as it becomes smothered by our bodies. I take her face in my hands. She takes mine in hers, holds it for a time, and then reaches to weave her fingers through my thick black hair, clutching masses of it, and then gripping it and pulling it just a little tightly. In her mouth and against her tongue, I can hear the gentle breezes outside my window. I can feel the scratching foot steps on the roof in her sweat, the sweat of her breasts that has dampened my sweater.

Toby draws in a very deep breath of me, and then pulls away. She starts to take her instrument from me, but it nearly slips out of her hands because they are so dampened with perspiration and the guitar is now slick with sweat, as if it too has been aroused, a spectator to our concupiscence. Eventually, Tobiah manages to remove the guitar from me, puts it on herself and keep its strap from sliding off her shoulder. It is now my turn to reveal my body and I am very attuned to the fact that my sweater is quite literally stuck to my skin. I prepare to lift its hem, but Toby asks me to stop. I meet her eyes, fierce and lustful, and I watch as she removes her guitar again, and then lay it gently on the kitchen table.

Tobiah Lynn comes to me. My heart flutters. She is standing close, her hot breath mingling with my hot breath as her fingers slowly lift my sweater, her fingers grazing my skin, sending a wave of tingling into my core. The wet, saturated sweater does not come off easily, and Toby is trying to be gentle, but she is gentle enough. I don't mind now, her not being exactly gentle because I know she wants to devour me because I know I want to devour her. So we stand together and we rock against each other as much as we are holding each other very tightly, our slick breasts slapping and smothering each other, our lips swollen and tingling, our mouths wide, our teeth bared, to bite, if provoked, if desired.

We sigh and hum like the deep throaty wind outside, reveling in the animal humanity of each other. We make for each other quiet cries, moans, squeals and growls as we lap the sweat from each others breasts. We laugh, like mad women inside our mouths, concocting notions inside our dirty little minds, will them to our fingers, our palms and our tongues, and then feeling, experiencing the notions become reality.

I am enraptured, drunken and fuddled by Toby's coveting of me, her eyes drinking me in, her mouth taking great culps of me and her hands finally pushing the bike shorts down my waist and my hips so that, there I am, my secret woman of all secrets in my woman heart, the portal my core, the bitch animal seething, desiring mouth, a tiny cave in an lush jungle, the opening obscured by a curtain of foliage, the way inside, lit at the roof of the opening by a single, pulsing, dew glistening red petaled blossom.

Tobiah Lynn kneels before me. I spread my feet, straighten my legs and I stand firm. Ready for her, I run my fingers through Toby's hair. She begins to suck the juices from the inside of my little cave, pushing her face into the soft green leaves and bringing her long tongue to the beacon smoldering just above, circling it and circling it like a moth that has lost her red moon and believes she has found it.

"I have an idea!" I think I hear Toby say, "Let's go up on the roof!"

I say nothing. I am so focused on how I feel. Eventually, I say:

"What?"

I open my eyes and look at Toby. I see her joyous expression and the slick all over her cheeks and chin.

"Let's put something on our feet," she continues, "grab a big blanket, and then go up on the roof!"

"Why?"

"Because it will be beautiful. Sensual lucidity, it'll be great. Come on Charlotte, you know it'll be great."

This, is not an idea I've come up with. I think about that for a few seconds, but Toby, Toby in all her exciting character and naked splender, makes the thinking stop.

"Okay." I say with a shrug.

8

We are on the roof and it is, just as Toby says, beautiful. We gathered what we needed, and then left from my back door. Toby's back door is across the small hall. There are umbrellas and extra shoes of mine strewn about. By Toby's door, the stairs go down, and next to my door, there is one flight of stairs that leads up to the roof. Toby took a hair pin from atop the door frame, telling me she'd left it there for herself, and proceeded to jimmy the lock. The door open, she took one of my winter boots and, just in case, set it between the door and the mand the jam after I'd stepped out onto the roof.

The breeze has dried our bodies almost immediately. My thighs are still very wet of course, but I don't mind at all. The slick actis as a beacon for Toby because it is reflecting the few lights of the apartment buildings around us. I follow Toby. We're smiling like children. We approach an edge, the roof crunching beneath my flip flops and I am glad I don't know what manner of things are causing the sound. We look over the side. I feel assured that noone is awake but us.

I believe that it is at least three in the morning. The breeze blows. Toby twirls in a very bad pirouette. I laugh. She comes to me. We kiss. The kiss turns into another. We break. She looks into my eyes. She wants to know me. She wants to know me deeply, everything about me. I will tell her, in time. I study her. Her green eyes glitter. She turns slightly and now they hold the light like a cat and it makes my heart flutter again, and it makes more of my love drip from me and trail down my thighs. When the slick is just about to reach my ankles, Toby takes me by the hand and walks me to what she believes is a good place to spread the blanket. I think again about how this is not my idea.

The night is cool and the city, off in the near distance, is teeming with glowing street lights. There no cars. Above us, there are no stars and this saddens me just a little, to be here with beautiful, wonderful Tobiah Lynn and have no stars to gaze upon as we lie here together. She unfurls the blanket and spreads it flat. My sad feeling passes and I can feel my juices trickling down the sides of my heels and puddling in the tiny space between them and my flip flops.

Toby extends and inviting hand, gesturing toward the blanket. Istep up to it, slip my feet out of the flip flops, and then lie myself down. Toby does the same and she is laying beside me, leaning on her elbow and resting her head in the crook of her shoulder. She stares. I stare. I feel the starless night sky above us and I start to think that it seems very, very heavy. It is as if the world is having trouble holding back the universe. Toby kisses me. I give my mouth to her. I revel. She touches me. She gives me kisses all around my face, ending with a single, sweet kiss on my chin. Toby then begins to kiss her way along my neck and she licks the hollow of my clavical and I shiver. I look up at the heavy sky and I think that maybe, there is something in the way of the night, something big, something very big. Then Toby brings her breasts over me, swing them so that they pat against my cheeks. She laughs inside her throat. I laugh inside my throat and, when a nipple gets close to my mouth, I suck it in and I relish its divinity, lingering my tongue in lazy circles. Toby Is now on top of me and she is gently pushing my knees apart. The night is heavy. The breeze blows gently against my body and I am so, so happy being with Toby. I close my eyes.

I feel Toby wrapping me tight in the chrysalis of herself. I did not think I needed to open my eyes to see that she had turned so that her glorious ass was in my face. I smelled its musk lusciousness and I brought my mouth immediately to it. Together, we writhed against the skin of each other, her body slick with the torrid enzymes that flowed from me. Like the caterpillar to the butterfly, Tobiah whispered into my sex, you can change, change and emerge.

Ferociously, I drank from her sex and the sweet diminutive pink hole above it. Strings of her juices and my saliva were stretched and snapped apart by my vigorous, insatiable tongue. I began to feel Toby's pelvis shiver and shake in my hungry mouth. I was dreaming a living dream. Toby had me captivated in a moment in which I could either live to love her exactly like this again or die that very instant.

I dawdled inside my reverie as I became increasingly conscious of the saturated twists and folds of the fabric membrane against my smooth skin. Somehow, I understood it to be some fusion of the heavy, weighty night and my Toby. The night said:

"I am naked."

"Who made me?" I whispered to it.

"Be silence. Say nothing more."

Toby slid along the length of me, her skin wet with my slick. She felt like an amphibious thing, its four feet sucking to find purchase, its tongue tasting my skin. With her skilled, her courteous mouth, the night used her to part my legs more widely. A new thought occurred to me. Where was Charlotte in all of this? Where, was Molly. Molly loved to watch this stuff.

"She's here." I think I hear Toby say, "They are all here."

I am suddenly, unsure, unsure of everything. I open my eyes. There is Toby, above me, but beneath the heavy, heavy sky. She is barely visible inside the darkness and the shadows. I feel that I cannot move, but it is not because of Toby. It is because of the night. The question occurs to me then.

"Which, which of them, let you in?"

Toby seems to have become, strangely, larger, her shoulders broader, her head a little wider, her neck a little longer. Then I remember. She is amphibian now. Like she had asked me to change, she, herself has changed. She has become more. The jar of her has been shattered. She has gathered her shards and she has given them to the artist, and the artist has melted her into a whole new, beautiful thing, without me. I look for her green eyes and they are there. Her eyes answer me.

"None of them. You, Charlotte, you let me in."

I felt her fingers probing inside me.

"Maybe, you should stop." I say.

"I can't stop without you." Says Toby's eyes.

I try to reach my hand to my sex, to feel Toby's fingers, to feel the love pouring from my inside, drenching the blanket beneath us, but I can't move.

"Are you ready?" Toby's eyes ask me.

There is something I know I'm not taking into consideration. I know, there is something I am forgetting. But, the answer comes from the silence between thoughts, the place where omniscience whiles away in its exclusive, elusive, fluid lucidity.

"Yes," I say, my voice weak, my breaths thick with ecstasy, "I am ready."

There is a long pause. Toby's eyes slowly narrow to a pair of green slits, and then they close completely. Then I see nothing. I only feel the weight of her on me and the weight of the night above us. I can't move. I try, but I can't. I could hear Toby, I think it's Toby, I want to believe it's Toby, hummed with delight. Then the hum became a grunt, then another grunt, and then another. I suddenly felt something swell inside my sex, swell and squirm, and then get fatter until not feeling my slick come out was like drowning on the inside.

"It's just, so much!" I cried, "Please, finish! It, it hurts me!"

"It will be over soon."

"It's, not the same."

"It is the same. It is only, different."

"Why, is it different?"

"It is different because I am giving you a gift. You said, yes. You said, that you would take it."

"I did. I did say I would take it! How much longer?"

"It will not be much longer."

I suddenly felt what I understood as an ignition. This, ignition started a chain reaction and it began to make me shiver with a pleasure I'd never known. My mouth wide and shuddering, I arched my back and craned my neck. Then, as my ecstacy reached its peak, my liquid essence filled me to the skin and rose up from my pores, soaking me and puddling between my breasts, in the valleys of my belly and in the hollows of my hips.

I felt the flood of me rise higher, lapping against my neck, filling the open air around my breasts, and then getting ever closer to my chin, my ears filled with the stuff, making the sound of a world beneath an ocean. I wanted to reach for Toby, but I was too weak to move. I knew that I could move, if I had the will, if I had the strength, because I knew that the night wasn't as heavy as it was before. And, when I opened my eyes again, I could see the stars, some twinkling, some not.

I remembered that I wanted Toby to see them with me, so I reached for her. She wasn't there. She wasn't, there. There were my flip flops, but not hers. She, left. She put on her flip flops and, left, just like that. I swung my head around. The dark was everywhere, spotted with tiny jewels of light looming above and below, and then there was, my video monitor. I grabbed it, and then looked into the screen.

9

And if that wasn't strange enough...

Sean is fine. Sean is perfectly, fine. I, on the other hand, and this is me, Charlotte, by the way, am a total, FUCKING, mess.

The stupid ass bitch, DLS, these are her initials because I now refuse to say or write down her name, was irresponsible, irresponsible, irresponsible! I remember looking at the baby monitor and realizing my, condition: how I was, what I wasn't, wearing, where I was and how fucking scared it all made me feel sick. I, didn't know, who I was.

I knew Sean. I knew that someone like me would have gone to bed beside him, and then, I don't know what happened. I knew I needed a mirror, I knew I needed to look at myself. So I put the fllops on my feet, gathered up the monitor, dragged the nasty blanket behind me with two fingers and tried not to pass out from my hyperventelation as I, in my frenzied need to carefully make my way back to my apartment without making contact with any other gross things.

I found my boot in the door and nudged it inside, and then quietly closed the door behind me. It was good that the smells were familiar or else I didn't know how I was going to calm down enough to make it into the apartment. Carefully, I slipped down the steps and felt for my door. It was unlocked, you fucking irresponsible, irresponsible, irresponsible fucking bitch! I dropped the dirty blanket, kicked it into a corner, slipped inside my door and then Locked it behind me.

I rushed to make sure the front door was locked too. It wasn't! Fuck, fuck, fuck, it wasn't! I locked and chained it. I need help! I fucking need help, I know, I know! I ran down the hall, flicked on the light, stood in front of the vanity and, squinting from the harshness of the light, I saw me, Charlotte, naked, wet all over with my stupid extreme vaginal sweat, so bad in fact that it was all in my fucking hair, matted to my face!