Winston's Witch Ch. 03

Fingers upon her chin tilted her face upward until she gazed into the Messenger's green eyes. "One last time I say it," She said to her. "Even now, you may elect to not accept what the Goddess offers..."

"And what does the Goddess offer, besides bare survival?" she asked.

"This," and the Messenger bent Her head and kissed her full upon the lips; not a sisterly peck, but a warm, lingering kiss easily as passionate as any she recalled from her husband. "And this..." and she felt a hand caressing one of her breasts, fingers tweaking at the nipple that began to stir at the treatment. "And this..." and a hand stroked her hip gently, then down along the outside of her thigh to her knee; then sharp but gentle nails tickled their way back up from the inside of her knee almost to the top of her thigh, and fingers played gently in the curly hair there, tweaking at it and causing her to give a startled gasp.

And now another kiss, as a warm tongue pressed gently against her lip, seeking entry, and the hand at her breast became more firm in its caresses, pinching at the now fully-erect nipples. Then the Messenger broke the kiss, and lowered Her lips to the widow's breasts, suckling and tonguing the two nipples in turn, as Her fingers slipped through the curls of hair they had found and tickled along the outer lips of the widow's sex. She moaned aloud, instinctively turning her hips to make access easier.

Somehow, they were no longer standing, but stretched at length on the warm soft grass. Again the Messenger kissed her, and this time her lips tentatively opened to the insistent tongue, which gently touched her teeth, then slipped beyond to touch her own. Holding each other, lips pressed to lips, for a while their tongues touched and stroked at each other... and then it was the widow's turn, wondering at herself, at her strange desire and at her daring, who lowered her lips to the lush breasts that were offered, and gently kissed at first one, then the other of the firm nipples, and it was the Messenger's turn to give a small cry of pleasure.

Again those fingers plucked at her lips, and then one, just its tip, slipped between them and began to teasingly stroke along their inner edges, teasing at the inner lips that were beginning to react. She moaned into the breast at which she was suckling, and her hips began to move slightly in rhythm to the stroking finger's movement.

Somehow one of her own hands was at the other's side, stroking Her long leg from hip to knee, as She again pressed Her tongue between willing lips and they kissed long and deeply. Their hard nipples brushed against each other, and the Messenger's finger slipped suddenly, without warning, fully into her slit, finding the way wet and hot. Breaking the kiss, she threw back her head and moaned aloud, her hips grinding and rising to press her mound more firmly against the stroking hand. As she tentatively reached out to stroke the inner thigh of the other, the Messenger added another finger to the one already stirring her depths, plunging the two into her hungry cunt even more deeply.

Even as she moaned and her hips bucked in passion, she felt the warmth and moisture of the other's sex at her fingertips, and, daringly, pressed forward as one and then another of her fingers slipped inside the other's open and ready cunt.

"Oh, yes, little one..." the Messenger breathed into her ear. "You can certainly pleasure me greatly... but first you must learn the pleasure that your body can bring you..."

Kissing her one more time on the lips, the Messenger again turned Her face downward; placing one gentle kiss on the widow's chin, She then again kissed, gently teased with Her teeth and suckled at the now achingly-sensitive nipples. The moaning widow writhed from side to side at the sheer pleasure, expecting another kiss when She finished with her nipples. She was shocked when, instead, those hot and maddening lips and tongue moved downward, nibbling along the underside of her breasts, caressing the fold where they met her chest, and then down, circling her belly and lingering maddeningly at her navel, as the two fingers pumping her gash plunged to their full length within her, stroking at the gripping inner walls of her hungry cunt.

She felt hot breath on her mound through the hair, and felt lips and tongue teasing at the curls.

Without warning, the maddening fingers slipped from her hot hole; she began to moan an incoherent protest that became a grunt of surprise and a loud, wailing moan of sheer passion as that hot, wet tongue slipped without warning between her hungry cunt's lips and caressed them from end to end, slipping deeply inside her, then withdrawing till it barely tickled the outer lips, then again penetrating into her depths. It was such a wonderful feeling; the heat in her belly began to clench and draw together... She felt as if she were about to spend, and she felt as if it would be the most intense sensation she had ever felt.

She had enjoyed the marriage act with her husband well enough, getting her own pleasure most times before he was done, so she knew some of what her body was capable in pleasure, but she had never before experienced this much pleasure... And she had not reached her release yet!

Although the Messenger's hands caressed and guided her hips, she really needed no urging to raise her needy cunt to those lips, to that incredible tongue; she pressed herself to the Messenger's lips, hoping to draw just a bit more of Her tongue inside her hot hole. But She still mostly teased at the widow's outer and inner lips without truly dipping deeper, working to bring her to her first orgasm. As her hips bucked faster and harder against the hot mouth that felt so good, she felt passion building ever more and more strongly within her belly...

And just as her passion was about to break and flood her, just as she began the the most powerful orgasm she had ever experienced, one of those fingers that was still well-lubricated with her cunt juices and oils pressed urgently against her anus, then slipped inside, stroking in rhythm with that maddening tongue's strokes on her cunt.

With a wail, her eyes rolling up till only the whites showed, she began to cum. Her anus clutched at the invading finger, her cunt muscles began to spasm and her hips bucked frantically against the Messenger's tongue and lips, as more and more liquid dripped from her convulsing cunt.

And, just at the height of her orgasm, when she was so far gone in pleasure that it seemed she might never again do anything but seek such pleasure again, the Messenger's tongue touched her clitoris for the first time.

The wail became a scream of pleasure so intense it was almost pain, and her entire body arched till only head and heels touched the ground, rising up, curved like a drawn bow, mindlessly seeking more and more of that gratification until, finally, she gave one last gasp and moan, her hips twitched and bucked several more times and, exhausted, she collapsed to the ground.

For a time, so far as Time had any meaning in that Place, they lay, side by side. The widow was slowly drifting back to normal consciousness, and the Messenger, her head pillowed against one hip and thigh, was idly using the widow's own juices and oils to make patterns on her inner thighs with a fingertip.

Judging that the time was right, She raised Her head from the widow's thigh and, pausing to nibble gently at a still-erect nipple, looked her in the eye.

"Enjoy yourself, little one?" She asked with a lewd grin.

"I believe so," replied the widow.

"Excellent. Soon, when you have rested a bit, we shall pleasure each other equally; rather than one to give and the other to get, both shall give and get just the same..."

==========================

"... and you wanted it, didn't you, Snow?" the witch asked.

"How do you know these things?" the widow demanded.

"What, did you think you were the only one She's touched in this world?" asked the witch. "See?"

She pulled at her bodice; opening, it revealed one firm breast. There, by the nipple, was what might have been a birthmark, in more or less the shape of a pair of lips, as if the pale flesh had just been kissed, and blushed where lips had touched.

"You were supposed to come to me, and I was to instruct you and your daughter. But you had second thoughts. You went to the preacher, and you told him something of what had happened (leaving out your previous state and exactly how you were sworn to the Goddess's service... ). And that old hypocrite, who doesn't even really believe in his own God, had you pray and pray on your knees as he mortified your flesh 'to drive the Devil out', didn't he?"

The widow's silence was her answer.

"But now your daughter's dreams turn toward the Goddess, and you fear that she is going to collect her due. And so you come to me, here in the gaol.

"And why should I help you?"